


Victim or Monster

by AlexanderTemple



Category: Original Work
Genre: Child, Child Abuse, Childhood, Family, Gay, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Prostitution, Real Life, child porn, life story, teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 61,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexanderTemple/pseuds/AlexanderTemple
Summary: This is a rewrite of a previous story.This is the story of a man's life. They are snippets from his memoryHe has a good family and his life starts well. However, with one wrong decision, he is pulled into a dark world. This decision will cause abuse, conflict and pain. He has been hurt and will hurt.Can he find peace with himself and others?Can he forgive others and especially himself?Will you think he is a victim or a monster?This story has many references to child abuse. I do not go into details as this is not needed. However please be warned of these references.Kudos and comments are welcomeYou can also write in comments similar things you experienced or just comment on the decisions our main character made
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. 1. Innocence

If you ever looked back at your life, you would notice that you could have done many things that could have been better. It is like we are at a crossroads and we have to decide which path we take. Sometimes we take the right one and sometimes we take the wrong one. Life is like in a room with several doors. Behind some doors, you will enter a dark room that is stormy. Another door could be one with a lion that is waiting for you. The final door could be a paradise. Some people always pick the right door.

I am in no midlife crises, but this is about the doors that I picked.

The best place to start is by telling about my parents. My Dad grew up in a rural part of Ireland. His father had an accident, so he had a bad back. His mother was a hard-working mother that was quiet and was happy taking care of the family. My dad grew up with 8 brothers and sisters, all lively and all had their own personalities. They were a hard-working family, and worked from a very young age at farms and wherever they could get a few pennies. This background has followed my dad throughout his life. He has always been a hard worker, and someone people can trust in as well as dedicated. Even today, as an 80 retired man, he goes to work some days!

My mother lived in a town. She had two sisters and two brothers. One of her brothers died when he was young. Her mother worked in a convent cleaning for nuns, something that was not such an honour as it sounds. Her father worked on farms. Like my father’s family, my mother’s was a close family. I remember my grandmother the best. She was a lively woman that spoiled us. When I was older, I was allowed to sleep at her house, something my brothers were not allowed to do because they stole money.

Anyhow, back to my parents. My mum and dad met at a barn dance. My father is 6 years older than my mother and she was only 16 when they met, however, she told my dad that she was older. I don’t know if he believed her or not, but I would imagine they had a great party. The problem was that my dad went to the USA. This was common in Ireland in the 60s, even though the country was having economic growth. My dad emigrated there and worked for construction. My Mum and Dad wrote letters back and forth to each other. When I was a teenager I read these letters. They must have been the greatest love letters ever written. You could see that the relationship grew to more than love. They were soul mates.

My parents got married in Ireland in 1966 and moved back to the USA

Years later, they had my brother. He and I never had a good relationship. He was a bully and tended to use his fists before he thought. He was also impatient. He wanted to have a car and a wife as soon as he left school. I haven’t spoken to him in about 20 years. I have tried saying hello to him on Facebook, but he never answered. He did get married to an older woman that couldn’t have children. They live in a flat above her parents. I always tend to sigh when I hear his name. However, it seems that despite he has health problems, he is the happiest of us all.

A few years later I was born in 1969. More about me later…..

I must have been good for my parents, as very soon after I was born, I got a little brother. He was my dad’s favourite and the attention seeker of the family. He was also outgoing and people liked his humour. We were close until he got married. He is like my dad that is a dedicated worker. However is very materialistic and spends money quicker than he gets it. He is also very dominating and thinks that his way is the only way. Once, I visited a house that he just fixed up. It was a nice cosy house; however, he painted the sitting room green. A very dark green. He asked me what I thought about the house. I said it was great and would look better when the sitting room was painted. However, he already painted it and he was so upset, that he has not spoken to me for years.

A few years later, my little brother was born. I have a suspicion that he was what people call a mistake. However, it’s good that he came. I had very little time for him as a child, because all he was interested in was sports. He got married as well, although he is most likely going to get divorced now. He is the only brother that keeps in contact with me. He writes to me when I write to him.

I was in the middle. Mum has often told me that I was an easy baby. I slept and ate. I saw a picture of me when I was a baby, and I looked like Winston Churchill. I was a chubby baby. However within a year, I lost all this, and when people see pictures of me, I was a cute boy. There was nothing special about me. I couldn’t be a model or anything. But I was not ugly.

It’s amazing what we remember as a child. Many memories disappear or get distorted. I think the first 10 years of my childhood were happy. They might not have been as good as others, but they were mine, and I didn't know the difference.

The first clear memory I have was when I was about 4. I remember that my parents were drunk. They were having a bad fight and I remember that my father knocked my mother to the ground. He was on top of her and it looked like he was going to kill her. I remember that I just stood there with tears coming down my face. I wanted them to stop. At some stage, my mother managed to get up and she put me and my brothers in the car. We were going to leave my dad. I don’t think I was very aware of what was happening, I just sat in the back of the car and screamed when my mother drove through the garage door. They didn't leave each other and while this could have been a bad memory, it is not a bad memory for me. My parents used this experience and changed their life. They have not drunk any alcohol since. My parents are like that, they learn and change their bad ways. Years later, when my dad found out we smoked, he stopped smoking from one day to another day, just to show us by example. That must have been hard, as he smoked 50 a day!

Shortly after the drunk episode, I remember that we playing in the garage. My dad kept his construction things there. As we played, the scaffold metal things he had against the wall fell over me. I remember how much it hurt. It fell and hit my head. I still have a bump there today! Lucky I did not get much damage. This is a good memory because I remember I sat in my mother’s arms. She cried and was rocking me back and forth, telling me how much she loved me. My parents were not the best at showing their love for us through hugs, so this must have been a weird yet good experience. Plus the fact that I had 3 brothers meant that I had my mother for myself. She was most likely making sure I didn't get a concussion. I didn't care. I was being rocked by my mother.

I grew and grew. People said I was cute, but everyone thought that some other brother was just cute. I didn’t care as being cute was something that girls were told. When I was old enough, I would go out and play with the other boys. However, my dad thought that I had to learn how to ride a bike, especially when he just bought me my first bike. I was afraid of the bike and under no circumstances could I balance on it. We lived at a housing estate at the bottom of a hill. So my Dad simply took me to the top of the hill and let me cycle down the hill. I was delighted that I could balance myself down the hill. However, I could not brake and stop and I ended up falling on the grass. This did not please my dad. So I had to go to the top of the hill and ride down again. It must have taken me hours to learn how to stop on a bike, as I remember spending that day falling on the grass. When I taught my children how to ride a bike, I used a more humane method, a brush on the back of the bike.

I loved the bike. One day, I was at the top of the hill. We wanted to ride fast, so we put soap on the wheels of the bike, thinking it will help the bike go faster. We also believed it worked. When we were at the bottom of the hill, we went to small woods and there was a small stream there. My friend wanted to build a bridge across the stream. There were only small pieces of wood around that someone dumped there. So we started to collect as much wood as we could. Luck was not on our side, as my friend took some wood that was close to a beehive. The bees were mad, so within no time, there seemed like a thousand bees that would attack us. I said the first thing that came to my mind... Run. I ran as fast as my two legs could take me. I survived with no stings.

When I got home later, my mother was waiting for me. She just spoke with my friend’s mother and he got stung. My parents were traditionalists where it came to raising children. In some ways they expected us to always behave and be seen and not heard; we were spanked quite a lot. My mother got her wooden spoon and I was soon over her lap getting spanked. It didn't stop here; I was spanked when my dad got home. I was bitter because what did they expect me to do? Get stung with him?

He was not allowed to play with me anymore. It really didn't matter, as we were moving.

The new house was an old two-story house. It was like a mansion. I went to a private Catholic school there. I remember I was afraid of school and afraid of what people called homework. I started in kindergarten. The first day did not go so well. I was so nervous, that when I closed the car door, I closed it on my thumb. It hurt like hell. I must have either been a shock or stupid as I just stood there screaming. Mum got mad and opened the door. It looked like the top of my thumb was falling off, but that must just be a false memory as I was not taken to the hospital. The memory I have from this is mum was ashamed and mad.

I was bad at Kindergarten. I was a brat! I never listened to teachers and I liked making a lot of noise. I think the worse thing I did was let the water run and over flood a sink when we had a lunch break, so when we came in, it looked like Noah’s flood. Looking back, I don’t know why I was such a brat. I think it was because my parents were so strict. It must have been a reaction, or me trying to breathe, at any case, I was an angel at home and at school, I was a brat

Our neighbour had two daughters. The older one was my age and she was ugly and obese. The problem was that she fancied me. I never thought of girls that way, so I just ignored her. I was only 8 when I first realised that she had some feelings for me. It must have been hard for her being rejected especially as I became very fond of her little sister. We quickly became friends as we could speak to each other and we had fun together. I found out that she fancied me and I thought she was so pretty and fun, that I decided that I fancied her. So we decided one day to get married. Looking back, I can smile that I was engaged when I was 8. Being engaged was fun. We would sneak out while our mothers would drink coffee and sit in the back of the car and kiss. She was 6, and yet she taught me what a French kiss was. Needless to say, we were caught one day, and that ended our engagement. I was more concerned about being caught and at the same time wondered why it was wrong to kiss my future wife. When I got home, I had to read 100 pages of Huckleberry Finn, and this was torture. I read it in the backyard, and I hated the backyard as there were snakes there. They were only garden snakes and would never hurt me, but I was afraid all the same.

I was surprised that mum didn’t take the wooden spoon. I was spanked a lot as a child and as I said, my parents were very strict. I think the worst I experienced was that one day when I did something bad, my mother dragged me into the bathroom. She took my hand and held it under hot water. I screamed and screamed. The pain was the worse that I ever experienced in my life. I nearly fainted. I could see blisters that looked like mountains were on my left-hand. This worried Mom as she took me to the hospital. I remember I was allowed to sit in the front seat. I was in pain so I counted the telephone poles as we drove to the hospital. There was a reason why I was in the front seat. Mom wanted to tell me not to say when the doctor asked. I was to make up some stupid excuse. I remember in the hospital the doctor told me that it would not hurt. It hurt when he treated my hand. I still have the scars today and when I confronted my mum about it decades later, she said it never happened.

I never did speak with the 6-year-old again. But that did not matter, as I met a new girl my age a few weeks after. Her name was Sandra.

You may ask where my dad was in all of this. He was most likely working. I was my mother’s favourite as I looked like her. My younger brother was my dad’s favourite. Dad and I never spoke a lot. He did try once. One of his hobbies was to go to auctions and buy old things and fix them up and sell them again. These auctions were far away and went on all night. I loved going to these auctions. I loved all the old things. I was also good at guessing prices after a bit. I loved sitting next to him and discussing things. I would end up asleep beside him but I was happy. I always wanted him to buy me a little thing. But he never did.

We went to church every Sunday. We had our fast seat in the Church. I sat next to my Dad. I loved singing and I loved Church. I remember once that my dad and I sung very high in the Church. It most has sounded like a rock concert. For me, it was not causing trouble. We were just singing loud. I was happy as Dad sang high as well, and God must have heard us. Dad must have got embarrassed, as he got very mad at me at one stage, and told me to be quiet. I looked up at him with a disappointed face and tears. Since then, I hardly ever sang in Church and I sat beside my mother at Church.

Mum didn't always help my esteem. Once when we took school pictures, I came back and proudly showed it to my mother. She got very mad when she saw the picture and asked why I could not smile properly. I said that I tried. Then she said I had a bad smile. Years later when my mother in law was visiting Ireland, she noticed that in my early pictures, I smiled but suddenly I didn't smile in pictures.

I went to a private Catholic School. I liked my teacher there a lot but I don’t think she liked me. I had great respect for her. She most likely heard that I was a brat in kindergarten and for that reason, I was not one of her pets. I had friends though and was popular. I remember we had a club during Lunch break. It was called the Thunderbirds. We didn't do much. They stood against a wall and we did gymnastics. However, it was fun. We were in a group and we felt like we were invincible. I was the leader. More and more boys joined it every day. Girls were not allowed. One day I was sick and that meant I had to stay home. The next day when I came, someone stole my position as the leader. I was of course mad. Where was the loyalty? I swore and told them what I thought. The teacher heard me say the F-word, and then I was told to stay indoors for a week. By the time I was allowed out again, the Thunderbirds were history.

When I was 8, I had this very strange dream. It was about the most beautiful girl my age that wore diapers. When I woke up, I remembered every detail of the dream. I thought it was weird that a girl that age would wear diapers. However, I wanted to be her. I wanted to be a girl. I dreamt about her every night and sometimes still do. When I played games, I was always a superhero, but always the female one. When we played house at school or dress up game, I would be the little sister, even wear a diaper made from a towel or a real one! The teacher didn't say anything about it, and I never told anyone I was trying to be the girl in my dreams.

I had a very good friend at this stage. His name was Ed. He was from Mexico. This meant that he was a bit dark-skinned. When we first met, he called me princess, which I should have been mad at. However, I just laughed because he probably saw something in me that others did not. We became best friends and did everything together. It was nice that I had a good friend. This did not last long. One day we were playing at my house. It was getting boring so we walked around to see what the others were doing. My older brother was mowing the lawn and he looked funny as he tried pushing the mower. He was bending trying his hardest to push the thing. His bum was pointing out, so Ed and I couldn't stop laughing. We walked behind my brother imitating him and laughing as we did this. My dad, who was not often home happened to be there. He came out and took me by one hand and spanked me hard while I was hanging in the air. I cried and screamed as when dad spanked. He didn't need a belt or spoon. I was mad with him after this, and never quite forgave him. Not because of the spanking but Ed was so scared, that he was not allowed to see me again.

It didn't matter, as we were told that we would be moving to Ireland. We were asked in a fun way if we wanted to. Of course, we agreed. I forget now if I really wanted to, as I thought Ireland was a third world country, where people lived in thatched cottages and there were no cars, as people used horses.

Even though we were asked, it seems like it was decided as we soon moved out of the huge house we lived in a small apartment in some poor part of the town. It was cramped but we survived.  
I had my first experience with the police when I was 9. My mother asked me to clean the car. This was a boring job. So I started to clean the car and quickly got bored. There was a half cigarette in the car, and I decided to try and smoke it. I found a box of matches and lit the cigarette, and as you can guess, I started choking with the smoke. The match fell on some papers that I collected and I could see it made a burnt spot on one of the papers. Then I took another match and decided to burn a corner of one paper. When I was doing this, this older boy cycled by in the car and called me a sissy. I hated him. I looked like a boy and thought why did everyone call me a sissy? I thought I was cool by playing with matches. As he cycled off I lit another one. However, the pile of papers I had gathered was now like a small campfire. I tried to put it out but could not. I ran into the house and out of breath said to my mother that I needed a glass of water. She asked why and I said there was a little fire in the car. My mother looked out the window and said “do you want to put a fire out with a glass of water” I looked out the window while my mother was calling me stupid. The whole car was on fire!

The police came and asked me what happened. My heart was beating fast and I just said that the boy I hated came by and threw a match in the car and it landed on some papers and that was that. They must have been rolling their eyes, but I thought they believed me. I really said prayers the next few weeks so God could forgive me for lying.

In June 1980 we took the long flight to Ireland where I found out they had normal houses and cars. This would be the next stage of my life, which would stain me forever.


	2. Outsider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> at 11, the boy's normal life has a secret when he meets a man

“Put that biro down,” the teacher said. I was now 11 and starting at my new school in Ireland. It was a school run by the Christian Brothers and was very religious. I looked up at the teacher and looked confused. He must have said 6 times to put the biro down. I didn’t have a clue what he was speaking about. A boy sitting next to me whispered to put my biro down and then pointed at my pen. Then it hit me, a biro was a pen! The teacher called me up and was mad at me because I did not listen to him. I had to hold my hand out where he swatted it a few times with a cane. That hurt. He just said I was not in the USA anymore. Despite the fact that my hand was sore and stinging, I was mad. My friend told me to hold my hand against the cold metal on the desk. I was silent for the next few days and my mother asked me why I was quiet. She was worried about me as I was often quiet when something troubled me. I told my mother the story and said how was I to know what a biro was. Why did they not speak English here? When my dad heard this, he marched up to the teacher’s house that lived close to us. I do not know what was said, but that teacher or any other teacher never did slap my hand again while I was at school.

We still wore American clothes which were fashionable in the USA, but not Ireland. It was golf like trousers and very colourful. My mother of course bought enough of them to last a few years. This and my accent always made me feel like a foreigner. Classmates knew I was from the USA, and they thought my family was rich. We were Middle class and even though it was hard at the start, we were comfortable. I tried to fit in and I tried to be Irish. I even considered myself Irish after a while. However, others did not. I was an outsider. I was not one of them. I could see it was easier for my brothers that played Irish sports and did Irish things. I just never did like sports. I was happy at the same time. I loved school but hated the fact that I had to walk to school which was two miles and most of it I had this huge wall to look at. I loved the social life in Ireland. My parents would visit relatives and speak hours with them while we just sat and spoke to them when we were spoken to. My mum visited her parents every Sunday and I loved this. I loved hearing old stories from my grandfather and being spoilt. I felt special when I was at their house.

I did have one good friend. His name was Tom. While I was a skinny and small boy, he was taller and overweight. Everyone thought I was cute, small with a feminine face. This didn’t bother Tom or me. We were great friends. After school, we would walk in town and hang around his father’s shop and then talk about everything under the sun. He did not see me as an outsider.

One day, we were on our way home, smiling and laughing. We were just started in our last year at primary school. Tom said he was bored, so he would walk with me to the housing estate outside town. It was better than looking at that long wall. Just before Tom left me, this man stopped us and he started talking. He said that we made a nice pair. We looked confused and he asked Tom if I was his girlfriend. I felt humiliated and mad. My hair was long and had a pageboy style. My face was feminine and it seems like everyone liked my eyes. We told him that I was a boy and we were both 11. He started praising us and telling us how “pretty” we were. I wasn’t paying any attention to him until he said we would be good models. Then I started smiling as I thought models tried on the coolest clothes and became famous. Tom immediately said no. The man, whose name was Kevin said that we should meet him the next week. He also told us that we should not tell our parents, as it meant there would be too much paperwork and less money for us. Then he left.

Tom and I didn’t talk a lot about it. Tom just said that he didn’t believe the man’s name was Kevin, as he was from the Middle East and he must have been a Muslim. He also said that we would be famous, yet why did we not have to tell our parents? If we would become famous, then our parents would know

I met Kevin a few days later in the same area. We talked a bit and he said that he did not live in the town and he was a Muslim. He also mentioned that Muslim children did not model. I listened to a lot to him and I was just happy to have company on the long way home from school. I told him that Tom didn’t want to and everything else Tom said. Kevin just laughed and explained that Irish parents are very strict, that’s why he didn’t like asking them. He even said some parents would want the money that I would earn, He said I looked special. I was both boyish and girlish. I didn’t know what he meant by this. I looked like a boy and even now when I see old pictures, I know that I looked like a boy. Then he said my eyes were very special and I had a special smile. I told him that my mother said I can’t smile. He just laughed at that. When he left me, I thought he was not dangerous and seemed quite friendly.

Tom asked me once after that if I would meet him. I told Tom the truth, that he was not interested in him and only me. Then Tom told me that Americans are so stupid. Within a few minutes, we were arguing. This continued the next day at school. I told Tom that we would meet at the park and let our fists decide who would win. I did wait at the park and I was willing to fight Tom. I also knew he would murder me as he was bigger and stronger. How could I be a model with a smashed up face? However, I also had my honour. I waited 10 minutes and he didn’t show up, so I walked home. The next day I found out he came and thought I chickened off.

I met Kevin at the park a few days after; He had his camera with him. He said that today we would just take some pictures outside so I would get used to being photographed. We went to some hidden part of the park, where there were deer close by. He then asked me to pose with the clothes I had on. I did as he told me, which was basically hugging a tree and posing around it. Then he told me that he had some clothes he needed to try. They were white Adidas shorts and a fishnet tank top. I felt half-naked with these on, especially since he told me that I did not need briefs on. I think the most embarrassing was when I had to sit on the ground and spread my legs. I hoped that he could not look up my shorts.

After we were done taking the pictures, we sat down and he told me I was born to be a model. He asked me did I mind him seeing me change my clothes. I blushed and asked did he take pictures when I changed clothes. He did not answer that but said my body was perfect. I was skinny and my bum was bubbly and he loved my little boy’s thing. He loved that I was far away from puberty. He also liked that my nipples were big. He said that I nearly had a girl’s body. No one ever talked to me like this before. It was so personal and private. It felt so wrong and yet so normal. I just sat there and blushed. He then told me that sometimes models took nude pictures. I just looked at him and said I would never do that. He just smiled.

I didn’t tell my parents anything, except that I visited my friend Maurice. He lived on the other side of the town. I was so confused about what happened and wondered what he would do with the pictures and why did he talk so much about my body. I had a few days until I would meet him again. I quickly forgot about it as the neighbours were visiting. There were 3 girls and I secretly fancied the youngest, although she was only 6. I loved it when she came over and visited. I would offer to take care of her while my mum and her mum talked over a cup of coffee. Shortly after the first time I took pictures, I remember that the youngest girl Catherine was riding a tricycle. I could see her panties. I must have started thinking about how lovely and pretty they looked. Then I thought of her. She would be a great model. Maybe Kevin would like to take pictures of her one day. Luckily he never did.

I often met Kevin while walking home from school. He had a house caravan and it was empty besides a sofa that could be a bed and a TV and a fridge. In the end, a white sheet hung from the wall and the floor. He would pick me up in his car and we go to the caravan home in the middle of nowhere and then he would take pictures. I loved posing and I loved some of the clothes be bought, especially denim clothes. I had fun doing it and even got used to his compliments. Over the weeks, the clothes became less and less. It didn’t shock me when I just wore these cutoff denim shorts and went topless. He pinched my nipples because he wanted them to “wake up”. I thought the way I posed sometimes strange and when he joked he could see my privates if I wore shorts, I just blushed. This just made him smile as he said he loved when I blushed. It made the pictures so much better.

I asked him who looks at the photos, and he just said he had special friends that loved them. I thought it was strange. Why would people want to look at pictures of me?

A few months after I met Kevin, I was sitting at his caravan house. I was standing where he usually took pictures. He gave me a coke and then took out a bottle of tablets and gave me one of them. He gave me a tablet and told me to take it, all models do. I didn’t even think about it and swallowed it with some coke. Then he told me to take my clothes off. I looked at him and at first, I thought he was joking. He was not explained that I would have my briefs on, so there should be no problem. I felt a bit fuzzy in my head and wanted to giggle for some reason. I posed in my briefs and giggled when he kept saying that I was cute. I was too high even to care. I tried to remember the last times my parents praised me. When I came home I had a headache.

Soon after that, my neighbour asked if I would babysit her children. I didn’t understand why as I was 11 and the oldest girl was 10. I said ok and went over there on my first job. I was giving instructions and then I was together with 3 girls. It was quite fun and not all that much work. In the end, we were in one of their rooms just chatting. I was sitting on a chair and they were on the bed. I don’t remember what we were talking about. Their parents were due home soon. The youngest girl who was the 6-year-old and the one I had a crush on laughed and said I was looking at her panties. I choked not realising that I was staring at her panties. This made her laugh and she said she does not mind. My older brother always looks and done things. I wanted to vomit. My older brother was molesting them. My little girl whom I secretly fancied was being molested. After that day I did not speak with my older brother and I hated him. I never told anyone what I was told and he does not know. I was mad at weeks as I felt so sorry for the girls. How could anyone take advantage of them in this way?

The next time I saw Kevin, I was afraid. I was still thinking who seen the pictures. It was getting harder as I always had to come up with excuses where I was going. I walked into his caravan and he was very nice. He had a blackcurrant cake, which was my favourite. I looked around to see if there were any clothes in a bundle for me to try on. I did not see any and I was not feeling good about going to where he took photos. I smiled when he said we would be taking photos in another place. I smiled and was hoping it will be fun. We went in some woods next to a stream. He took out his camera, which was new and it looked a lot more advanced.

He told me he will just take pictures of what I was wearing, which was quite disappointing as my clothes were boring. He took a few and then told me to slowly take my clothes off. I was confused and asked did he want me just in underwear outside. He shook his head and said wanted me naked. I started shaking and could feel tears coming down my cheeks. I told him no, I begged him; I simply did not want to do it. He gave me a can of coke and one of those tablets and I just held it in my hand. He told me it was me that decided. If I did not want to, he would drive me home. He would tell my parents why I was crying by showing them the pictures. He whispered he would even show the ones of me in underwear. He shrugged his shoulders and asked what my parents would say. I was by now in tears and he suddenly got mad and ordered me to swallow the tablet. I slowly started stripping while hearing the clicking camera. I remember that slowly the tears vanished and I was like a giddy drunk girl. He was praising my body. This was a bit strange, as he was a man. 

I had a headache when I came home. I did not say a word to anyone, I just thought about being naked and on photos. That was not modelling. I had a headache and promised I would never see him again. I cried with a pillow over my head.

Of course, he met me on the way home from school one day and told me he would pick me up on Saturday. The braveness I had suddenly disappeared and I just nodded. A few days later he picked me up. I was silent. He gave me a coke and tablet in the car. I was giddy in his caravan; I was like a giddy girl. We ate some cake. He told me today we will be taking a break and watching a film. I smiled as I couldn’t really think. The video was on a VHS machine, and I never saw a video before. Besides that, it was a strange film. It was boys posing as I have done except at the end of the film, they were molested. I knew nothing about sex and despite the pill, I was in shock. Was it normal what I was doing? I did not know what to think. I could still hear what Kevin was saying, “Some boys like you look like girls. Men like this. You will make me rich. Men like whores like you” I never did answer. I did not even know what that word meant.

He wanted me to come the next day. This surprised me, and was a problem, as, on Sundays, I usually visited my grandparents with my mother. I could not say no to Kevin, and I forget what excuse I came up with.

Kevin picked me up and I sat in the car and didn’t say a word. I counted the electricity poles as we drove by and was thinking about that film. Is that what happens with my pictures? People sit around and see them? What did he mean by men like me? I opened my mouth and asked him if he had a tablet.

When stopped in the middle of nowhere, and he took his camera and a bag out. He told me to get naked and as the tablet was working by now, my mind was not so cluttered so I did as commanded. He took out a diaper and put it on me. I was in shock as it was a diaper, but besides that, I always had a dream about a girl in a diaper. So the next hour I was posing in a diaper and to be honest, despite it was embarrassing, I had lots of fun. Maybe it was because of the girl that was in the dreams. In the end, he took some nude pictures of me. I was starting not to care, he already took some, so what was a few more?

On the way home, he was talking about I was a cute money machine, and I would make him much richer. Then I got his speech about to keep everything a secret. Which surprised me, as for how did he make money? It must be the pictures. He must have sold pictures to others. I looked out the window and started to count electricity posts.

My mother believed in chores, and when we did not have school. My job was to vacuum the house every day. This also meant moving the small furniture so they would be vacuumed under. Sometimes she wanted me to do the dishes as well. Looking back I think it was a bit too much for an eleven-year-old. However, I liked it. I felt normal. It made me feel like any other boy and it helped me forget the strange pictures Kevin took of me. I hated when mum was not satisfied with the work I did, as that meant I had to do it all over again. This would affect me much later.

I had a double life. One where I was a naked boy in pictures or pictures of me in underwear and even diapers. These pictures continued and I was now getting addicted to the small tablets that he gave me. He even dressed me as a girl sometimes, as I posed in girl dresses or shorts and top. I liked these pictures for some reason as the clothes didn’t show my body and they were quite pretty. The problem was there was no one I could speak with except Kevin. I feared if my family knew, they would hate me and think I was some sort of slut. If I spoke with Tom, he would say he told me so. This made me sad most of the time and I only considered myself happy when I had a tablet. I even tried taking some aspirin tablets when I was at home.

When I was 12, I made a huge discovery in my life. I was at a revival evening at our local church and it was here I decided that I would be a priest. In a way, I knew I was being abused but was always in doubt as I never said no. I always said yes and let him do it. But that was my secret life. I wrote to all the religious orders as I could and at the end was interested in becoming a Christian brother that was teachers. It was an Irish organisation and I am sure that it helped boys. I told my parents that I was going to devote my life to God. My parents must have thought I was a saint.

A brother from the Christian brothers came and visited me. My parents were proud of me. I told him that I was ready to join now. He smiled and said that I needed patience. He did not realise that deep down I was using this as an escape from Kevin, and I really needed to leave home. I was told that I had to wait until I was 18.

Could my new religious mission save me from Kevin?


	3. Deeper and Deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy has two lives and is frustrated and sad. Is there any escape?

I wanted so much to be a priest and was so disappointed that I had to wait so many years. I tried reading the Bible and praying every night. I was not afraid to tell people that I wanted to be a priest. It made me special in the family’s eyes, as I would sacrifice marriage and a family to be a priest and who knows the Pope? God became like an invisible friend. He thought I was ok, no matter what happened. I had this image of him walking beside me in good times and bad times. I was hoping he would share all the deep secrets I had. God was not the God who was always angry. He was a good and understanding, otherwise, he would have hit me with lightning

It was like I was two people with two lives. It was like I had two sets of parents. One was my own parents, who were very strict, even for the standards back then. When I was home, I was starting to spend a lot of time in my bedroom. I never came out unless I was called or I had to do housework. It was at this time, I became interested in what was being played on the radio. These posters plastered my walls. My bedroom was never tidy, but it was my hiding place from Kevin and his pictures and at times my parents.

Kevin had a lot of influence on me. He would ask me when was the last time my parents gave me a hug? He would say they treated me like a slave tidying the house and doing dishes. He would ask me when was the last time I had a heart to heart talk with them? Could I ever tell them what was going on in my heart? My other brothers were loved and I was the black sheep of the family. He, on the other hand, knew I was good at being a model and I made many people happy by the pictures, even the nude pictures. He loved me and knew what was best for me. My response to all this was I hid in my bedroom at home.

I had a friend called Maurice; my parents hated his family as they thought they were snobs. To me, they were the perfect family. They actually spoke to each other and even asked how each other were. The children there were meant to be heard and not just seen. When I could I visited him. He lived on the other side of town, so this was like travelling to the other side of the world. He chatted a lot as he did not like playing- So we would just listen to music and chat. There was a secret reason why I was here, and that was his sister. I had a huge crush on two girls in the town. One was the grocer’s daughter that never gave me the time of the day, and the other one was Maurice’s sister, that actually talked with me. When she was there, I went totally shy and could hardly speak. She was a goddess. Maurice knew I fancied his sister, and that made him jealous, as he thought I was visiting him.

Kevin took me to a beach once. He had one of his friends with him and this was something new and frightened me. I wore diapers all the way in the car on the way to the beach with a light blue summer dress over it. I was so embarrassed that he has this strange man with him, but Kevin just said he saw all my pictures and he was one of my biggest fans. The man was English, which made his accent nice. After we got to the beach, I was told to walk around while some pictures were taken of me. The English guest kept commenting that I was a cute baby girl. Then I was told to put a pair of girl panties on and sit and play on the sand. I remember it was a bit cold but I did my best as I did not want Kevin to be mad at me. I just had these girl panties that had lace edges, so it was no surprise when an old couple walked by and told me I should be ashamed of myself. This, of course, made me cry.

The Englishman had pity on me and told me to lay over with him. I did as he said and laid beside him as he put his arm around my shoulder. My head was now on his chest. I did not mind him rubbing my hair, but I was confused he continued molesting me. I let him do it and did not complain. Kevin was talking bad about my parents and saying they do not love me. When was the last time I cuddled with them? I did not want to tell him that I was about 4. The Englishman lifted my head and started kissing me. It was deep kisses. I was in hell!

Kevin looked at his watch and told me he needed some nude pictures of me before I went home.

I remember when I said bye to the Englishman; he said I would be a great whore! I still didn’t even know what that word meant

Kevin was demanding more and more from me. He would tell me to stand in some strange places. These could be parks, or on a street corner or in shops. I would be wearing football shorts and no underwear. It could also be very small denim shorts. Then he would tell me to sit with my legs straight. This meant that anyone who could see me and looked could look up my shorts, at my privates hanging there. It was extremely embarrassing but also I was losing all my morals when I was with Kevin. It made me laugh inside when people would stare and look uncomfortable at me-

My mind was getting worse and worse. The best way to explain it is that I was confused. What was I doing in secret, and was it a sin? Would it mean that I could not become a priest? Would I be taking these pictures for the rest of my life? I felt like Kevin loved me and sometimes I wanted him to be my parent. I also knew that I was in a moral black hole and I was becoming lost in it

I was nearly a teenager and this could be seen at home. I started fighting with my mum. It was not really my fault. I was doing what Kevin told me to. I was giving my own opinion. I was beginning to say no to things I did not want to do. I was rebelling. Mum would not have it. It meant that we entered a 10-year war where we simply argued and shouted at each other. I hated these arguments as I wanted my mum to be a pillar in my life, which she wasn’t. Why did she not see how confused her son was and how unhappy he was? This was fed by Kevin that had me convinced that my mum did not care. These fights usually ended with my dad ending them by giving me wallops on my bum.

The English man and another man were at the next photo session. It was in Kevin’s caravan home. I was told that I would be doing a sort of film. I would now be a film star. Kevin would take pictures while the other man would film. This was new and I was excited. I wondered where the script was and was told the English man would do all the talking. He was acting like my dad and I just had to do what he said and answer him. I was given a ballet leotard and panties and tights and told to wear them. This sort of disappointed as I would be a sissy in the film.

I walked in the caravan and said hello to the English man and said I was home. He told me to sit down beside him and asked did anyone at ballet know I was a boy? I said yes and they called me a sissy. He then molested me once again. I hated it and I felt as dirty as a sinner. It was my full sexual experience. I was in agony and pain. The begging and tears did not stop it and I remember saying sorry to God, as I was expecting to die.

I was in a depression after. It slowly dawned on me that I was now a star of a porn film and pictures. This is what Kevin wanted all the time. He was making me gay. The experience hurt my body and I could not see how it was fun. What was worse with the ordeal was what it did with my head. I felt dirty and I felt ashamed. I also felt guilty as I could just have said no. I could just forget that I ever met Kevin, and concentrate on becoming a priest- However, I knew that I would go to him when he wanted. These were not the last porno pictures or film I would be in.

A new boy started at school. He was from Holland and had the cutest accent. He was a bit smaller than me and looked like a momma’s boy. He had a bowl haircut and looked a bit old-fashioned. However, he was so cute and so perfect. I wanted to be like him in every way. I did my hair like his. I wanted to sit next to him in class and simply be with him. I remember that he was an extremely slow writer and this meant I practised writing slower. It was at one stage when a friend asked me why I wanted to be like the Dutch kid, was it because I was in love? This caused me to panic as I thought did they see the porn I did? I doubted it but I did not want to be known as a gay boy. I started sitting with another boy and tried to avoid the Dutch kid. I often wondered did this hurt him? I know it hurt me a lot. Looking back I think I was in love with him.

Kevin picked me up one day and told me we were going to visit one of my fans. I was a bit surprised that I even had fans. The image of the old couple was often in my mind telling me that I should be ashamed. The man wanted to meet me in a public toilet and I remember he was very fat. He had sex with me. By now I learned how to concentrate on something like a spider on the wall, peeled paint etc. I would try and take my head to another world. I did not enjoy sex. I was not old enough to know why people had sex or why they thought it was fun.

I was now 13 and my life was going downhill quick. I was living a double life and it seemed like I had two personalities. I was a child porn star and prostitute that let men do whatever they want. I did not like it and yet went back for more. It was there I felt accepted and wanted by others. When I was at home, I acted like a saint and tried to live up to everyone’s expectations. I got mostly A’s in my group cert and intermediate exams, which meant I was considered intelligent, especially in maths and business.

The real me was when I was in my bedroom and hidden away by myself.

The reality was I was getting depressed and my mind was going crazy. At times I could not think straight. I would just cry on my bed and hate my parents. I wanted to get out of the house and family. I wanted to be a long way from my family. For some reason, I loved Kevin and believed all that he said. I would miss him.

At one stage I started doing crazy things. One was wearing panties to school. Another one was to wake up at about 4 am and crawl through my bedroom window and run naked outside. This was a special feeling as the breeze against me was liberating. Only God and the cows in the next field and our dog could see my naked body and they did not want to harm it or show it to the whole world. Running outside naked was like I was cleansing myself.

Things got worse between my parents and me. It was a mixture of what Kevin told me and being a teenager. I never knew what to say to my dad and he never knew what to say to me. We never had a conversation. We did not have the same interests. I remember we had a cat that would have kittens. Dad said we could not have them and they would be drowned. I was horrified at the thought and lost all respect for my dad. I guarded the cat all the time and one night when I saw she gave birth to some kittens, I hid them. I considered this a victory for God for protecting his creations. Dad was furious and wondered where the cat hid them. I do not know if they survived.

I decided that I had enough of everything. My plan was to go over the mountains and walk to Limerick which was the nearest big town with an airport. I would save up for a ticket and go to Hollywood and be famous. I would go to school first as sometimes I came home late if I was with Kevin, so it would give me a few hours to get away.

Looking back I should have taken the main road. However, I went up that stupid mountain and after a few hours, I was not over it. I remember I felt so happy and so free. The roads stopped at one stage and I tried to force my way through some bushes, which tired me and wasted time. I did think I was smart, as at one stage I walked in a stream so anyone that followed me would lose the scent. The problem is wet feet get cold. I had freedom for 8 hours and still was not over that mountain. It was getting cold and I was hungry. I decided to go back and make a better plan.

I remember some films where someone ran away ended good, in hugs and reminding each other how much they loved each other. My mum was upset and mad at me and dad didn’t want to deal with it- he called our neighbour which was a policeman. He didn’t ask why I did it or how I was, he was telling me how inconsiderate I was and how much I hurt my family. He thought I needed to be over someone’s knees.

I refused to speak with him and turned on my Madonna tape. I got a present from my brother which was a bootleg tape. I was immediately hooked on her and when she became famous, I would be her largest fan. I remember when she released like a virgin, I was late for school. I had to listen to the song over and over. The teacher did not like my excuse that I was listening to a virgin. He did not know the song. I was in deep trouble.

Madonna has been a vital part of my life since I was a teenager. It’s not just the music that people do not appreciate. It is also how she deals with things. She is not a follower, and she is a rebel. At the same time, she had the courage to accept all the comments about her and people that were against her. She did her thing telling us we need to have tolerance and respect. Madonna has helped me in so many ways.

Dad was in the construction business and built houses. He got the idea that we would work for him during holidays and weekends. This meant our summer holiday was spent working with him. We would leave the house at 7 am in the morning and come home at about 5 pm. I am sure my dad was thinking he was doing something good and was training us to be hard workers. It did teach me work ethic but I hated every minute of it and considered it a sentence. It did not help when he taught my brothers younger than me how to hammer and work with concrete while I was left doing manual work. To this day I can’t use a hammer.

We continued this work until I left home. This meant it was getting harder to do what Kevin wanted me to do. He did not want my parents to be suspicious so once in a week or so, usually, after school, we would meet at the park. I knew by now I was a prostitute as I met about 3-5 men a month and pleased them. It was not all that painful, but the emotions were what has hurt me. Besides I became an expert at leaving my body, I also wondered was I beginning to like it and indeed was I gay?

I was now 14, a very skinny boy. Kevin warned me the worse thing was to gain weight, and he showed me how to vomit after eating. I was not a fanatic about this as I hated doing it. However, I admit that I did it until I got married. It was another secret I kept in my head.

This was my life now. I was in porn pictures and films, a prostitute being pimped out and semi-anorexic and when I was normal, I worked hours upon hours with my dad.

I gave up when I was 14. I wanted it to all end. People laugh when I tell them this story, but I tried to kill myself from drinking the water from a flower vase. It gave me an upset stomach but I really thought I would die. This is what makes it sad.

I had strange answers to do things as you probably realised. Shortly after the flower water, I came up with a plan that most likely would work and I would have revenge on my older brother that was a bully. I teased and teased him until he picked up a knife and chased me around the kitchen table- he was going to kill me. However, my mum called our neighbour… the policeman. The positive thing besides I was alive was that my brother was in trouble.

I suppose I felt sorry for myself. I was often frustrated. Our dog was always humping me and one day when I was alone at home, I was outside and he humped my leg again. I got mad and frustrated and tore my clothes off and went on my hands and knees shouting he was like all men, he just wanted sex. I won’t tell more about this.

One cute thing happened around this time. There was a boy in my class called Paul. He was from a poor family with problems. He was popular enough but had a bad reputation because of his background. It was prejudice. No one expected him to have a future. However, one day as I came to school and walked in the classroom he sprang up and kissed me on the lips. I was standing in shock while classmates called us gay and laughed. Paul whispered in my ears, “stop being sad. We all love you and you are cool." Why he said it was a mystery, but it put a smile back on my face.

It was also at this time that a girl said she loved me and wanted to be my girlfriend. I don’t know if I even liked her, but I felt normal with her. We met when I could and didn’t have to make some man happy. During a school holiday, I told dad I was taking a day off. I cycled to her house, which was far away and seemed like uphill all the time. The afternoon was agony. Maybe because I was shy or maybe we had nothing to talk about.

The day after we broke up. I really didn’t know her that well but I wasn’t that sad. I was about to go to boarding school

Freedom at last


	4. Escape to Hell

My mum and dad were driving me to a boarding school in a town about 2 hours from us. I was in the back seat of Dads truck with a big smile on my face. This was freedom away from my strict parents, and from the hidden world, I had as a child whore and porn star. Now was my chance to have a normal life. It would be a new life where I was the same as everyone else. The only difference was that this was the first step to me being a pope. On the road to Waterford, as we passed one town after another town, I had tears going down my eyes, as I remembered many of the men that had sex with me. I remembered every step of their molestation and abuse. Kevin was disappointed about me starting at a boarding school but said I was to meet him during the weekend when I was home.

This was a new start. I could let Kevin be part of my past

We finally came to the school at Waterford. It was huge. It was about 4 or 5 stories high. As we were driving up to it, we passed tennis courts and football fields, and lots of bushes. We went into the building carrying my suitcases. The entranceway was huge. It had a special smell of wax and wood. A religious brother was there and told us he would lead us to the dorms. He had to tell me to hurry on as I was looking at the pictures and statues and pictures of former pupils. We walked upstairs and stairs until we came to the dorms. They looked like a horse stall. The cubicle has three wooden sides with a curtain that closed for privacy. I suddenly started to sweat and shake as I saw the bed. I was starting to think this was not a good idea. The problem was that I snored, in fact, I snored so loud, that I sounded like a train choking on coal.

Before I knew it I was alone. I sat on my bed thinking that I was alone by myself. To be honest, I was very afraid. This was a chance for a new life, but what would this new life mean? The fact was I knew what my old life was. I knew it meant living at home with very strict parents and when they were not looking… being a whore for men. Now I was in a huge school with 1500 borders and daycare boys and alone. What will my life be like now?

I saw a boy looking over the wooden wall. He said I must be new. Then he told me to come to him so we could meet each other. I found his bed and sat down while he unpacked. The first thing he said to me was that I had long eyelashes and long hair. I sat on his bed looking him at unpacking. He said my voice was high pitched and did I ever enter puberty? Of course, he asked how rich my dad was and he laughed that I came from a small town. I thought this boy would not a friend because, to be honest, he was a jerk. I was also in shock when he started shaving his legs. This was totally a new thing. Why would a boy shave their legs?

The first night did not do well, as no one else got a lot of sleep with my snoring. The next day everyone told me how can a boy that did not talk that loud make such a noise when I was asleep? Some boys were nice and gave me suggestions after suggestions on how I should stay quiet at night time.

Another problem I had at boarding school was the toilets. I never did like public toilets as I had so many bad experiences with them. I didn’t want to sit on a toilet and know there were people close by. I never felt safe like this. So the first few days was trying to find out a solution for this. At last, I found the Religious brothers never used the toilet on their floor, so this became my throne for my time in the boarding school

To celebrate school was restarting, we saw a film that night. It was about a girl that dressed as a boy to investigate something only a boy could do. The film was funny and it did take some time fly by. When it was done, I was walking alone through the hallway, and I could hear boys behind me asking was I really a girl disguised as a boy? To make things worse, they shouted “princess” and I don’t know why I did it, I turned around. From that day I was called princess and if I argued too much about it, they would say if I was not a princess, I was Quasimodo…two names that I hated. I remembered I looked in the mirror and wondered why people always thought I looked like a girl. This was not the fresh start I was planned

It was very lonely at the school, as no one wanted to be friends, so I spent the first few days exploring the huge building and outside. I knew every corner of it after a few days. We were allowed to smoke in the smoking shed, so I tried to make friends out there. I smoked a bit since I was 10, by finding old cigarette butts left by my dad or snitching one from a pack. It was very dark when I found the boys that smoked. An older boy offered me a cigarette and I thought I was now making friends - However; I lit the cigarette from the wrong end so the filter went up in flames. They started laughing and saying I must be a little girl. I never went out there again.

I found a corner and cried.

That night, and every night while I was in Waterford, I waited to the others slept and then tried to sleep. I do not think people heard me snore but when I woke up, the whole bed was wet. I could not believe it. I was 16 and I wet the bed! This was probably the most embarrassing thing I had to do, was tell a brother my bed was wet. He was nice about it and said that it must be the stress at sleeping in another bed. The problem was my mattress was changed with a rubber mattress. These mattresses make lots of noise!

I continued to wet the bed every night.

I still thought that I could make a friend. I did not understand what it took to be popular. How can someone who shaves their legs be popular? I was not mean and never teased anyone. Why did they not like me? It didn’t help when people found out that I had a rubber sheet. It sort of gave the image that I was either a girl or a momma’s boy. There was one boy called Larry that I thought looked very normal. So I followed him. I refused to believe he did not want to speak with me. He never said a word and I did all the talking. I followed him like a little kitten and did not understand the fact he did not want to be associated with me. It was when he walked so quick, that I nearly had to run that I got the message. He did not want to speak with me. Years later, when I walked with my mother in law, she would also walk fast, and it took me a while to understand that she was not trying to escape me.

Of all the experiences I had so far, I classed Larry’s as the evilest. He could just have told me.

Once again I found a corner and cried. I could not see any hope. My plan to start a fresh new life was destroyed. I picked up the telephone and rang my mum that I wanted to be picked up and I would be ready for two hours. I honestly expected that my mum would tell dad to drive me to Waterford and pick me up. She did not do this and told me to wait a few days. My aunt was coming to Waterford and we could deal with it then.

The next few days I felt like I was a failure. I entered puberty late at 16, I was still going through it. I wondered if this was the reason why no one liked me. Was it because I looked small, and in some cases acted small. Was it because my voice was still a small boy’s voice? Did they know that I wet the bed? My worse thoughts were that they knew I was once a whore for men. What about if their dads had the pictures?

My aunt came and said I would not be coming home. I cried and begged and pleaded with her to let me go home. I don’t know what she said, but she said that I had to survive. She said I was known for my bravery, charm and humour, so use these to survive. I was crying and didn’t listen to her. I felt alone and that my family now deserted me.

It didn’t help that Brother Frank called me into his room at night. He said that from now on I would come to his room before bed. My heart was pumping quick as I thought this meant that he wanted sex. He pointed to his bed and said that I would have to wear a diaper as it would be hell for me if people knew I wet the bed. Once again I started crying and told him that they would tease if they knew I wore the diaper. I didn’t even know there were diapers for my age, but there was a depends diaper on the bed. The brother helped me put it on, and he was not sexual about it. In fact, he knew what problems I was going through and told me that God has a plan for me!

I visited him every night to get the diaper on. I loved doing this, as it meant a human would speak with me. We talked about everything and he often gave me advice. No one ever mentioned the diapers, and I often wondered could they see them and could they hear them?

The first month of school went and it was about to go home for the first time. On the day that I should have gone home, this small boy came up to me. He started speaking to me, saying that it was a lonely place to be. I was very cautious about him and wondered what sort of a setup this was. He told me he was afraid to speak to me as he heard I was weird and could very well be a girl. He said his only friend was a boy called Danny. They came from the same town. Danny told this boy not to be friends with me, as they would never get friends. Fortunately, he did not always listen to Danny. We became friends that day. His name was Cory.

I went home with a smile on my face, as I finally made a friend. I suppose we would see if he was still my friend on Monday. I had to take a bus to a place called Limerick Junction and then a train home. Luckily my mum bought me a Walkman. The journey was long but I enjoyed every minute of it. I was alone and no one could ever bother me. When I came home the first time, my mother was worried if I wanted to stay home. I think my dad was embarrassed that I cried home. I told them I met a friend and I was ok. Even if I wanted to come home, I wouldn’t, as I felt like they did help me when I needed it. I hid in my room all weekend.

On Saturday, I went to meet Kevin where he agreed we would meet. I waited and waited and he did not come. Then it stroke me, maybe I was too old. Maybe he could not use me anymore. Most likely he found a new boy that he was grooming. Whatever the case was, when I walked back home, I felt like a different person. I would no longer be abused and molested by old men. Mom noticed I was in such a good mood.

Saturday night, I was watching something on the TV. It was an interview with Madonna and some music clips. I was smiling because the woman had guts. She didn’t care what other people thought of her, and she believed she should do what she wanted. Of course, I was a Madonna fan at this stage. My brother sent a bootleg tape of her from a club and I was hooked on her since. It was during this time when she had several songs in the top 10 and 2 albums in the top 10. The world was experiencing Madonna Mania. I decided I would survive boarding school, friends or no friends. I found an old denim coat and I went to my mum’s jewellery box and took a leather string pack and some silver chains. I went to the bathroom and spent an hour redoing my hair. I made it split down the centre. On the way back to Waterford, I covered the coat with the chains and used the leather string as a bracelet.

Cory met me at the school, and he was shocked by the changes, saying it was very different. I was smiling because he was still speaking to me and I felt like a different person. It didn’t stop the teasing, but I told Cory I no longer cared if they teased me. I would be who I wanted to be. I told them my new philosophy was to strike back twice as hard at the people that hurt me.

The first person that this happened to was Danny. He was not happy that Cory and I were becoming good friends. To be honest, I tried being friends with him, but he wanted to fit in with the popular group. He was also a snob. He thought he was better than me. At one stage he was teasing me while Cory was there, saying that I had rubber sheets. I was so humiliated and thought that he knew about the diapers. I wrote a message in one of the toilets that he was gay, and he hoped someone would visit his cubical at night time. I thought I was very smart, as I wrote with my left hand. He told us the next day that an older boy came into his cubical. I was laughing so hard. Later he got in trouble for writing on the wall, as no brother would believe him as to why someone else would do it.

I had no diapers when I was home, as I did not want my parents to know. In fact, I hardly wet at home, which was a bit strange. I made my own cloth diapers by putting some towels in my underwear. When I was at school, things became bad again.

I had more courage now, and the new look did raise a few eyebrows, and it even lessened the teasing. Even Larry, the fast walker told me I was growing up. I turned back on him as a sign that I did not want to speak with him. He was the one boy that I could not forgive. He needed my help several times during my time at Waterford, but I always gave him the cold shoulder.

This did not mean I was part of the popular group. I was still down in the social hierarchy. I did not care and promised myself no more tears. The principal called me into the office and said he considered himself as a guide in my quest to be a priest. He said to remember my gentle side, as he observed I was getting too tough. He told me bitterness is what the word itself says… bitter.

I now went home every second weekend. Cory went home every weekend. The weekends when he went home was very tough and lonely. The hours went by so slow and I walked around a lot. The only bit of human contact I got was when the brother helped me with the diaper. It was mainly because of this that I did not mind wearing one. There were two boys that were about 12 years old that always teased me. I felt like hurting them badly, but I never did, as in a way they were just snobs that did not know better. Plus it was a form of human contact!

Another boy who was from England joined our little group. His name was Jake. He was also a loner and hard to get to know. He had strange thoughts. He was very anti-social and I wondered if he liked life at all. Despite this, he qualified to be in our group as he was not liked by the popular boys. So now we had a group of 3, and when Danny felt alone, he tried his best to fit in. He was only accepted because he was Cory’s friend.

I was great friends with Jake. It is like he had no social norms or values. Like one day we were playing chess, and I never had the patience for this. Luckily I was positioned where I was taking all his important pieces off the board. One after another, I was wiping his most important pieces out. Suddenly Jake started throwing the pieces and board across the room. I ducked as they were aimed at me. When I saw him lifting the chair, I decided to run out of the room. Needless to say, I was in shock as I thought it was so violent and totally unfair. Jake didn’t speak to me after. Cory told me he expected me to say sorry. Things were going from bad to worse as I was definitely not going to apologise for winning a game. This meant Jake sat by himself and I hung around Cory. It was hell on earth as I was waiting when he would take the first step. The problem is that he was waiting for me to take the first step.

There is a town park across from the school. It was a good escape from the school grounds. I was there one day after school and sat on a bench. It was a good place to escape from constantly being with people. I was in deep thought when Jake sat down beside me. He said no one can see who is taking the first step. I sort of ignored him. He then apologised for losing his temper and says it’s something that happens once in a while. He also felt hurt that I ignored him after. I told him that I was afraid of him. He gave me a hug and I suggested we just forget about it. We were friends again as if nothing ever happened. We talked about other things

I was happy again, not knowing that someone saw us sitting on the bench


	5. This is not you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy is still at boarding school.

After Jake and I became friends again, life for us was hell at school. This came at a time when I was now happy with our little group amongst the snobs and others that went to the school. They could call me princess all they wanted, but at least I had close friends. The problem now was that one person saw us on the bench and everyone was saying we were boyfriends. Everyone was saying we were gay. It didn’t help when someone said that he saw us kiss on the bench. I was frustrated as who would believe we did that in the middle of public. Jake was a good friend and despite all my experiences when I was with men, I never considered myself gay. I took this very personal. It was not the truth! Even today, I could get frustrated over what was said. If it was true, I would just deal with it. However, the fact that people said I looked girly, and I was on a bench with a boy and this meant was gay. Jake was telling me not to listen to them. I wondered how he could be so calm about it.

So once again, being in Waterford was a nightmare. Now I was supposed to be gay and I could not sleep because I was worried about how I would be treated if they knew there were pictures of me around men’s bedrooms and so forth. I was afraid that they would think it was my fault. This made me lose more sleep as I started thinking that I never said no. I let Kevin corrupt me. What would happen if people found out?

This was part of my life that I wanted to forget about. However, something always happened that reminded me of whom I was. Cory went home every weekend, and that meant that I was alone. One of the ways I passed the long hours was to take a shower. I would shower alone. Once I heard some footsteps. My heart was beating hard and I could feel the anxiety building up in me. I looked around and it was Brother Declan. .He was standing behind me. The men I had sex with flashed through my head and I was waiting for him to touch me. He did nothing but looked. My anxiety was growing but nothing happened.

This happened a few other times. In fact, he would ask if it was time for me to take a shower. Then I would take my shower and he would just look at me. Even if I turned away from him, I could feel his eyes roam all over my body. This was creepy every time, as I was waiting for him to do something, especially when he started breathing hard, and sometimes saying how "pretty" I was. I wanted to tell Cory about these shower episodes, but as well as what I did with Kevin, I was afraid what Cory would say. It is a bit weird, as years after I left school, someone told me that Brother Declan liked boys. I suppose I was lucky that he only looked, despite it is one of the scariest experiences in my life.

I had things to distract me. I had in-growing toenails. Most likely because of the tight and pointy shoes I used to wear. Ingrowing toenails are painful, so I complained to my mum about them and before I knew it, I was in the hospital. They were going to knock me out. I was so afraid of this. I wondered if I would wake up again. Nevertheless, the operation was a success, but I was in a depression when I saw my toes. They were so ugly. The sides of them were cut off and they did not look normal. I hated and refused to go barefoot after that operation. The problem was that both toenails got an infection, so it looked like you can see in the flesh, and it was always leaking with this disgusting stuff. So I had to go to the school nurse once a day to wash my toes and they had to soak in some soapy water. The nurse was a bit strange and I wonder how she ever became a nurse. She was more like a grandma. I hated getting my toes soaked but at least I had someone to speak with, especially on the lonely weekends.

One thing I could use against the snobs in Waterford was my intelligence. I became very good at accounting and English. In both of these classes, the teacher sat us according to our latest grade. I remember the first time that I came in second place for an English essay. I was shocked at this, as I really never done well in English before. The same happened with accounting. Imagine the looks on the faces of them that made my life such a hell when I was just as intelligent as them, especially during the weeks that I came in the first place. When you get bullied, then it’s the small victories like this that were the bright side of my life at the school.

Things were not going so well with maths. This was strange as I was always good at it. However, when I came to Waterford, it was like I forgot everything I ever learned. The teacher thought he was a comedian, so half the class was him telling his latest joke. Then he would rush over whatever we were supposed to learn. Before I knew it, the class would be over and I would be so confused. In the first exam, I got 10% and this was a huge defeat for me. It was so hard asking that I be moved down to a lower level. I was not as intelligent as I thought I was!

It did not matter that I was intelligent, as the fact, everyone thought I was a girl or I was gay stuck with me. I knew I was not gay. It hurt me every time someone said it and I would always find a place to sit and cry. I knew things would become worse one day while we were getting a meal and standing in line. This older boy suddenly started to feel my bum. I, of course, told them to back away, but that didn’t help. Everyone noticed what was happening and after this, I had to hear that I had a girly bum and someone would touch it. I even stopped telling them to stop and knew after they got their laugh, it would stop.

Kevin was out of my life. I couldn’t come when he summoned me. The thing was that I was the centre of attention when I was his little porn star and whore. It was like I was adored or loved. I know it was for the wrong reasons, but it’s a feeling that I liked. I was the centre of attention at Waterford, but that was just to be teased and bullied. This was nothing that I liked. So the strange thing is when Kevin was out of my life, I felt like an emptiness, like what would happen now?

After the episode with Jake, everyone thought I was a sissy and I was gay. I did try to cut my hair, but the fact is that I hated short hair. I started smiling when people called me names and even flirted with them. This was so they would see I was not hurt. It seemed to have helped as they teased less and less. Maybe this is because they saw me as friends with Cory who was never teased. I did not want the Religious brothers to think that I was gay. After all, I wanted to join their religious order. I doubt very much that they wanted a gay boy to be in their order.

Weekends at home were a refuge for me. It was where I would stay in my bedroom and close the door and not let anyone in. I would listen to the radio and read a lot of magazines. I would also pray that I was not gay, as I knew this was a sin. Deep down I knew that I was not, but at the same time, why did I let Kevin do all those things to me and why did I let boys feel my bum? Did I look girlish because I was gay? Was being gay a sickness? Looking back, I know many teens go through the same questions. I hope they did not go through the same agony as I went through.

Just before summer, I was coming to the dorm after putting a diaper on me. Mark was in my class. He was brushing his teeth while I tried to sneak past him. Then he asked me what the noise was. I tried to look confused and then he said: "it was impossible". I still had my confused look on and tried to walk to my bed. He followed me to my bed and whispered "that’s where the noise came from" and he could see how big my bum looked. He smiled and whispered. “Who would have guessed that you wear a diaper?”

Summer came, and I was hoping he would forget.

1987 was the final year of my school. I was an optimist as I would be one of the older ones. Of course, it was a year where I would have to do my leaving certificate. That meant I could expect stress.

I was so excited at seeing Cory and Jake again after the holidays. It was like the three musketeers were back. A few days after we started again, we decided to walk around the school before bed. We were on the roof of a shed. We talked about what we did all summer. Cory worked on his dad’s farm, and Jake visited his dad in England. I worked with my dad. We were having a good time until it was time to go to bed. The boys crawled down and I was quite afraid of this. So I walked around in circles around the shed. There was one place where it was possible to jump as there were only a few feet. I smiled and jumped and then twisted my ankle. Not the smartest thing I was done. I had to go to the hospital where I was told it was hurt badly but not broken. I had to use crutches. Of course, I was teased by everyone. Some thought I was faking it. I was now used to the gossip they made about me.

One weekend, Cory and I were taking a walk by the harbour in Waterford. There was a large cargo ship there. We found the way in and no one was standing there. So I told Cory that we should explore the ship. He was afraid and said it was a Libyan ship, as he could see the flag. I didn’t think this meant anything, so I walked up the wooden bridge to the ship. Cory followed me asking me was I crazy. We would be kidnapped! This made me laugh and said then we would escape exams. Cory and I went down some narrow hallways. It seemed like when we opened one door, another hallway was there. I said there must be a huge cargo area, but all we were seen were hallways and small rooms. No one was there, so we continued on. We walked into a room that looked like a library. There were biscuits on the table so I helped myself to one. Cory was certain that they were drugged.

Then we heard a door close, and we both stood in shock. Then I told Cory to run. We ran back in the hallways, our hearts beating fast and we were sure we would be captured. However, we escaped. Cory was afraid and mad and told me it was my fault that we nearly got kidnapped.

My life was not all that bad at school, thanks to Cory. I never told him about my past. I tried telling him once but could see tears in his face and he was in shock! I used Cory as a way to escape this world. I felt normal when I was around him, although we were both underdogs.

There was one area where I felt like I was totally normal. On the bus ride home from school, I met a girl. She was the same age as me. At the start, I used to sit behind her and just look and daydream about her. Then one day, she sat down beside me, as the bus was crowded. She lived in Limerick which was about 1½ hours from my parents’ home. We spoke and spoke and I thought she was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. We ended up as boyfriend and girlfriend. This made my bus ride home fun and a total break from school. We mostly talked and held hands, and of course, we kissed a lot, despite old people in the bus that was shocked that we kissed. I didn’t care. I was in love… with a girl and I felt normal.

A brother told us not to sleep one night. He had to speak to us. He said that he could hear sexual sounds coming from the dorm. His speech went on and on about what he could hear, and how sinful it is to play with oneself. This made everyone giggle under their breaths and the next day it was the talk of the school. Everyone was asking everyone was it them that were masturbated. No one asked me.

Once a teacher who we all teased a joked about was walking down the hallway where Jake and I were hanging around. I do not know why I did it, but I whistled after her. Within 5 minutes I was in the head-masters office. He told me Jake was a bad influence on me and Jake would be suspended. I was safe because I was studying to be a brother. This made me mad as I thought it was totally unfair. Where was the headmaster for the last few years when I was being teased and bullied? It was only Cory and Jake that wanted to be my friend. I opened my mouth and gave him a piece of my mind, and told him exactly what I thought. He looked quite pale when I was done and said I could be suspended for saying all that.

I never got suspended and neither did Jake

I was in a rebel mood now. It was two weeks until the leaving certificate. I found out that since I was an American citizen. I was exempt from Irish. The teachers begged me not ask for an exception, as I would have to do another subject. I said I will not do Irish and then told them that I would be doing history and it would be a higher level. So I spent two weeks doing 2 years of history and forgetting everything else.

I did well in all the subjects, I could have done better in Accounting, Economics and English, but I got an honour in History. I was happy.

I was now done with Waterford. It was time to join a religious order. However, it will not be as a De La Salle Brother. It was time to stop being the bottom of the hierarchy and have a normal life.


	6. Saint me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a life of abuse, the boy is a man and tries to be a priest

I was finished with De La Salle and in fact my childhood and teenage days. It was a weird feeling. I would leave Waterford where I was an outcast and constantly felt inferior to others. I would now be independent of my family. I was on my own and the world was waiting for me. The question is what world? Ever since I was 10, I heard that there was no place for my generation in the world. We would never be employed and things would cost so much? I was an optimist, as I figured I could survive Waterford, I could survive anything!

Still, I had to ask myself was joining religious life just being safe. I did a lot of contemplating. My grades at school meant that I could really do what I wanted. I got a letter from a journalist school offering me a place. I forgot I even applied. I was so overjoyed about the fact I was accepted in upper education. Dreams were going through my head if I wanted to be religious or a journalist. I could travel around the world and report what was going on. This dream was short-lived; as my dad said he would not pay for university! That settled that, it was a sign from God that he wanted me to be a priest.

What would I have done if my Dad said he would pay?

I decided not to be in the De La Salle Order. I needed to put that part of my life behind me. I needed a fresh start. I had a bad time at Waterford, and in a way, I tried what it was like to be humiliated, teased and bullied. I was not like any saint that offered my suffering from God, I took it personally. By the time I was done, I felt like a survivor. I felt strong and I could take on the whole world. However, I would not do it with the order that had members that ignored what I went through at Waterford.

I would get a fresh start.

Just as I decided not to join the De La Salle order, I got an invitation from an order called the legions of Christ. This was an order that mainly worked in South America. They were organised like the military. They fought all evil to bring others the message of God. There was something about them that appealed to me. They saw everything as black and white and this made things easy. The life was very structured and there was a hierarchy. The vocations director visited us and said I should come on a weekend to see if they were my future. He said I could take my younger brother to the weekend to keep me company. I was reluctant, as my younger brother always wanted to be the centre of attention and this was my life I was deciding. Never the less, my younger brother came with me.

We slept in a room with a boy from Belfast. I was so worried I would wet the bed, although it has been months since I have done that. The Belfast boy was a small and chubby boy and he had a good heart. He did shock my brother and me when he started talking about the troubles in Northern Ireland. We were shocked when he said that he supported the IRA. This was a terror organisation that killed thousands of people because they wanted the north of Ireland part of the Republic. I always wondered why, as most of the people in Northern Ireland wanted to be part of the United Kingdom. Still, we let the boy speak and tell of all the bad things the British done to the Catholics. I thought it was interesting, as he wanted to be a priest, yet he still condoned violence.

I was also amazed at the structure of the Legions of Christ. While they did have humour, they were very strict. They ignored me and it was obvious that it was my brother they wanted. One of the major memories I have was they prayed every time they went out to drive. I really liked this.

The vocations director pulled me aside on the last day. He basically told me that I was too feminine for them. He asked how people would take me seriously if spoke in a low voice that was high pitched. He put his hand on my knee and told me if I was ever to serve God, I had to be more like a man. Then he told me I should be more like my brother. I was in a panic and looked at his hand on my knee. I wondered did he want to have sex with me so I would get the job. I felt anxiety as I stood up thinking that part of my life was over.

When I got home, I wrote a letter to the bishop complaining. I do not think he would ever read it, but It made me think I had the last word.

The next order I visited was the Franciscan monks. They were the opposite of the legions of Christ. They were humble and dedicated their lives to God and helping those that needed it. They lived a very simple life and seemed to be content and happy. My impression was they were submissive and just wanted to do the work of Jesus. I was so impressed that I wanted to join straight away.

The vocation director told me that most did not survive. He told me I would have to make lots of sacrifices. I would wear a robe and get my head shaved like monks. I would never have a girlfriend and I had to follow the three vows. This meant poverty. I told him I had all of Madonna's music, and explained she helped me survive my teenage years. He said poverty meant I would own nothing!

I may have been immature or selfish, but I was not willing to give up my Madonna music. Looking back, it’s a shame because I think it was the Franciscans where I belonged.

I knew there were three vows I would have to follow. Chasity was no problem as I had already enough sex for a lifetime. I was no longer a child porn star that was rented out. Now I was an adult. I would be satisfied if I never had sex again. Obedience was another vow I could handle. I have been doing what people told me all my life. I never had total freedom. The one vow that was a problem was poverty. I did not want to beg for money, to be starving and I wanted to keep my Madonna music.

I ended up joining the White Fathers. They were a missionary order that worked in Africa. They were quite normal and ordinary and did not go to extremes.

We were 3 young men that joined. One was a farmer's son from Donegal and the other one was a bit older and tried to join before, and was back after taking a break from studying to be a priest. We had our own house behind the priest's house and done everything there except eat food and pray, which we did with the priests. The good thing is that the three of us was got on well together, which was good, as it took 7 years to be a priest. They would have been a long time if we were not friends.

I was now where I wanted to be. I was on my way to becoming a priest. I did not have to listen to teachers or my parents. I did not have to be teased and bullied. It was like my cocoon burst and I was now a butterfly. I was free. I decided not to think about my past as the boy who was abused. I was going to show the world the real me. This proved to be dangerous!

I was not the saint I planned to be. I was a rebel!

I was there a few months and I observed the new world I was in. the one good thing I noticed was that I felt safe. I was happy with my new life and enjoyed its routine of praying, being with the others and eating. I was sure that I could be a good priest and make a difference. The problem was that some of the older priests seemed lost in their ways. They either drank or they ate too much. It looked like they done the motions, but not actually believe in their life with God. It was good that pupils lived in another house, as we inspired each other a lot.

I studied philosophy in Dublin. It was a place where religious orders sent their pupils. The other two pupils went to a normal philosophy class and I went to the advanced class because of my leaving certificate results. This was possibly the worst thing that could happen to me, as I wanted to study with the two others. However, I had to get used to obedience. Going to school was the most dreaded part of the day. I really had no clue what was being taught. When I came home I tried to study, but that did not help, as I did not understand anything I read. I wondered how I would pass the exams

Some of the priests drank a lot at the White Fathers. We went to a pub quite often. This made me think a lot, as it must have meant that people's donations that they thought would be used for missionary work were being spent on priests going to the pub. It was at a memorial gathering that I got drunk for the first time in my life. The three of us was sitting and the oldest pupil asked if I wanted to get drunk. Of course, I did not want to get drunk. He said we could make it a project and see what It was like getting drunk. So we did that. One after another, whisky was being consumed so in the end, I was drunk. They took me outside and I started crying, telling them I did not deserve to be a priest..... I corrupted many men..... I was a sinner. Then everything went black.

So the first time I became drunk was when I studied to be a priest

I was called into the office the next day.

I never liked whisky from that day.

Celibacy was no problem for me. However, there were two 10-year-old girls that stood outside my window. I chatted with them and they were quite nice. This went on for some time. I got to know what their families were like and what their lives were like. They were two girls that had a happy life. The other pupils saw a problem, as to why did they stand outside and speak to me through my window every day? It became worse when they sat next to me at church or I spoke with them on the lawn. Then the oldest pupil asked me was there something sexual between them and me? I was so mad at him. They were only 10! By now I was forgetting what happened to me at that age. I cared for them. I wanted them to have a good life. I would never destroy it. Then it hit me... People could misunderstand my intentions! This put me in a small panic, as I admitted to myself that one of the girls was pretty. This being said, I would never do anything sexual with them.

Did they think I was a paedophile? Why did I think one of the girls was pretty?

I had to go home, as my grandmother died. This was extremely hard as she meant so much to me. I do not remember a lot about what happened at home except my mother cried all the time. This was also so hard. It affected me for the rest of my life as I hated when a woman cried. Everyone was proud that I was studying to be a priest. My grandmother was laid out at a funeral home and we were all around her praying. I was asked to say the Rosary. I started well but looked at my grandmother. She looked like she was plastic. Then I saw it... Some threads between her lips. I started crying saying that she could not speak now. I felt like a right twat afterwards, but it was there I understood what death was.

I came back to Dublin still grieving over my grandmother. Did she now know what I did when I was a teen? Did she know my body was so unclean? The more I thought about these things, the more I felt like I was not worthy to be a priest. I was starting to get anxiety attacks and felt so depressed. The others did not notice this. They noticed I was becoming more of a rebel.

We ate a lot, and we drank a lot. This meant I was beginning to gain weight. I never had this problem before! I was taught that the one good thing I had was my body, and this was now being destroyed. One of the priests has a solution. We went out and jogged every second day. Jogging was torture, but it was fun doing it with others. The problem of course was we would have a beer or a night snack after we went for a jog. It did keep my weight down.

In the spring of 1988, we went to a retreat place. The whole idea of this was that we would spend 3 days at a sort of retreat hostel with a beautiful garden. We were told a retreat was a time to pray and meditate in silence. We were not allowed to speak with each other and it was up to us what we were supposed to do. This retreat was total hell for me. I tried to pray. I tried to meditate. But I could not. I was not used to deciding the whole day for myself. I always had a program set out for me and a routine. I can say this years later. If you asked me then, I would have said that I could not pray or meditate, so why should I be a priest?

I was going home for Easter. My mum sent me money so I had pocket money. I was always poor as I spent all my money on cigarettes. On the way to the train station, I decided I should get my hair cut. As I sat on the chair, I told the woman to highlight my hair like George Michael. She put this bag over my head and starting pulling strands of my hair through it. It was painful but the result was great. To be honest, my hair never looked so well. My dad was so disappointed when he saw it, saying that a priest should not be so vain. My mum actually liked it. That was good enough for me. When I came back to Dublin, I was called into the office and told that I cared too much how I looked, and this was not good for me or the White Fathers.

On the way back to Dublin, this deaf man started to write to me. It was an ordinary talk and he was interested in life as a priest student. He asked me if he could visit me, and I of course agreed.

There was a talent show at the school and we decided that we would participate. So we decided to do a dance. It would be Eurythmics “Missionary Man” and “Like a Virgin” from Madonna. I was chosen to be the main dancer because they said I looked most feminine. The problem was that it was very provoking, I looked like a hooker and my dancing would make Madonna jealous. We did our bit on stage and at the end, everyone was so quiet. No one clapped. We quietly left the stage and went home. A woman in my class told me the next day that we have set women's rights back a decade and guess what… I was called into the office. The superior blamed me. Maybe I should have done a rebel song. Despite the controversy and the trouble we had, I thought it was fun.

A few weeks after, an old classmate from Waterford suddenly visited. He was told that I was here. I did not want him to come in, but I was nice and let him in. We didn’t talk much, except about his studies and mine. Before he went, he told me that he was sorry for the teasing and bullying he did at Waterford. I felt like crying. I told him he was forgiven.

I was called into the office of the superior the next day. The superior talked around the bush and I was very slow to understand what the problem was. He asked was I gay and was the boy that visited me the day before an old boyfriend. I got mad. Did the superior know my deep secret about what Kevin did to me? I told the priest that I was not gay. I did not need to explain what I say to people that visit me. In fact, I refused to say that the boy came to be forgiven. It had nothing to do with the white fathers. I could see the superior thought something else happened.

He should have known better, besides the two girls that say next to me at Church, a Spanish girl my age sat next to me. We discreetly whispered before prayer and on our way out. Sometimes we met on the grounds and I admit we did kiss a few times. She was a secret girlfriend. I knew that it was wrong. At the time, I did not know why I did it. However looking back, I think it was because I wanted to prove to myself that not only men wanted to play with me. I did not think of it that time, in fact, I did my utmost best to forget my past.

The other two pupils had voluntary work and I never did get one. I suppose it didn’t help when I showed up in a trench coat and highlighted hair. It seemed like they were all afraid of me. So the superior told me I could do a prayer group. I decorated the statue of Mary with roses and flowers. When the parishioners came in, they all commented on how pretty she was. Then I told them they should not pray to her. I was shouting like an old evangelist. I said she is stone. We cannot pray to Mary and not pray to God. I still do believe that. most of the people there were old, so they were provoked by my fiery sermon. The next day I was called into the office and told I should always respect people's way of praying and how they are dedicated. I should never judge a person. Out of the countless times, I was called into the office; this was a time when I learned something that I remember today.

The man I met in the train visited me. He asked to see my room. We talked and talked. Then he told me he had a joke. Redheaded people have red hair on their balls. For some reason, I thought that was funny. Then he started feeling me and stripping me. I did not fight him. I actually switched off in a way. I did not know what he was doing, except that I ended up giving him a blowjob.

It was time for exams, and I was shocked that I passed them all, except logic. I only got 10% on that exam. To be honest, I do not know how I passed as I never studied.

I told the oldest student about the deaf man. He thought I was raped. I was crying saying that I let the deaf man. He did not know what to do but advised me to speak with the superior. I told the superior of what happened. I explained that let the man so it was not rape. I hinted at being abused but did not say too much about that, as it would look like an excuse. I did say that I did not want to do anything with the man, but men always seemed to want to do things with me.

The superior explained that he knew that I was gay. He told me I was also a rebel. I was so protected by my family and by the boarding school; I was always packed in cotton wool, so now I was a rebel. He finished saying that it was summer holidays and the white fathers did not want me back. This came as a shock to me. I joined the order. Could they kick me out? The answer was yes.

How would I tell my mother?


	7. Does God want me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mans life dream is destroyed, now he has to find out what the world wants from him

How would I tell my mother? She was so proud that I was to be a priest, and now I was no longer welcome at the White Fathers. I came home ashamed and to a few hundred questions from my mum. I told her I was taking a break from the priesthood and I needed time to be an ordinary person. This did not satisfy my mum. She was manipulating me and tried every trick in the book to get me to confess. At one stage, she told me that she spoke with them and now she knows. I doubt if she did, as then she would really be mad. Then she concluded that I was kicked out. She just did not know why. Whatever she was done, it did not help me.

I tried to go on a religious weekend to see if I would join another order. It is there I met Jonas. He was my age and totally different than me. Besides, I had long hair, looked a bit feminine and looked younger than I was... He acted feminine! He had a high-pitched voice and his hands were all over the place. He never spoke about sports or men's things. He talked about makeup and whatnot. He even wore a bit of eye shadow and convinced me to do the same. No religious order wanted him, and I could understand that. He came into my life at an important time. After being kicked out of the white fathers, I felt like my life was over. I did not think the world needed me. It was the only dream I ever had to be in the religious life and now I was stuck back where I started. Jonas was full of life and knew that people thought he was strange and he knew he would never be in a religious order. However, he had faith that God had a plan and he had the courage.

I didn’t join that order. I decided to believe the world needed me, and I had to open my heart and mind to see what it was. One thing that was important is the sexual abuse I experienced was being more and more suppressed and forgotten. It was a fog in the back of my mind. I read many years later that this is quite normal. An alternative to dealing with something dramatic is either to forget them or convince yourself that they never happened.

So I was back in the town living with my mum and dad. I told Dad that I should apply for unemployment assistance and visit the jobcentre. He said no and there was no discussion. I told him that was the only way I would get a job. It must have been a shame for him that one of his sons will be on social welfare. I was told that I would be working for him.

It took me a few weeks to find out this was not me. My life was going to work at some building site. Using the wheelbarrow all day or lifting things back and forth and cleaning. I asked him at one stage when I would try to actually build, like laying bricks or cementing a wall. The answer was that my little brother was being trained for that, and besides that, I did not have the reflexes. So that night, I sat outside under a tree smoking a cigarette and looking at the stars. This is something I loved to do all my life, as it gave me peace and made me feel like I was part of nature. I tried looking at my future. I would still be pushing wheelbarrows and some labour boy work and have no real trade or qualification. I would have no social life and what is most important, I would not be happy.

The conclusion is I had to get away from home.

I looked at the newspaper every day. I even applied to be a DJ at a club. I put some songs I got from the radio on a tape and sent it. I never got an answer. I think they must have had a good laugh or think that it was a 10-year-old that sent it. I also went to a pilot exam but failed that. I went to Cork for an interview as a security officer. My mum did not like that idea, but I knew it was a short-term thing and it was a stepping stone. Besides that, it was a day of working for my dad. They told me that I did not get the job, which pleased mum.

A few days later, they called me and told me to get to London as fast as possible. Dad did not like it and said it sounded so unprofessional to tell me I did not get a job and then suddenly be told to get there as soon as possible. I could see his point, but at the same time, I had two choices. I could still work with him, and never learn how to be a builder or I could take a chance and go to London.

My dad gave me money so I would go to London. I went by ferry and I remember this was one of the happiest times in my life. I stood and watched the ferry pushed through the waves. There was more and more distance being put between me and my old life. It was like the water was washing my old life.

When I got to London, I was met by one of the bosses. He drove me to the office and then I was given a uniform and told I was to start work the next day. I should go and get some sleep. I would be living in a house with 3 others. The youngest boss whose name was Dave said he would drive me to the house. I was very happy as I really needed some sleep. Dave didn’t drive me straight home; he drove me to his house. He explained he had not seen his girlfriend, and needed to see her as she had to go to work soon. So we went home to him, and I was told to sit on the sofa. For the next 4 hours, I heard Dave and his girlfriend in the room. Let's just say that the bed creaked a lot. I was sitting alone on the sofa and just wanted to go to bed. I could have slept on the sofa, but I would have snored. This is not a great start. I watched some old TV programs dozing off once in a while.

He drove me home and it was a nice house. There were a woman and her boyfriend in one room. She looked like Marilyn Monroe. There was another Irish man sharing my room. His name was Scott. He was a lively man and had a girlfriend that lived in Ireland, so he missed her a lot. I put down my suitcase and started unpacking when Dave told me I could do that later. He asked for a down payment of rent. This gave me some anxiety as it meant I had only a few pounds left for a week. The surprises did not stop there. He told me I would be working that night.

I worked at a closed pub. It had a broken window, so my job was just to sit there. I was alone and tired and hungry. I found out that if I ate some ice cubes a machine-made, it would keep me full. Looking back on it, I do not understand how I ever survived that night. I was told that I would work there another night, so I best get some sleep.

I slept. I also spoke a bit with Scott that enjoyed talking. I told him that I had very little money so it would be a hard week. He told me that young men like me could use my looks and get paid for sex. He knew lots of men that would like to have me in their bed, so he told me how much he would get to set the meetings up. In other words, he was offering to be a pimp. This was another shock since I came to London. When I asked him if I could loan some money, he said he was in the same position as me. He had no money.

I said no to being pimped out. The strange thing was that I forgot all about Kevin and what he did with me. It was like being pimped out was something new.

I had a plan. I would eat a pack of biscuits a day. After paying for transport, that’s what I had the money for. It worked while I was at the pub. Then I was moved to a supermarket. It was a small supermarket in a middle-class suburb. Needless to say, this did not help my hunger, as now was surrounded by food all day.

I lasted a day here and then gave in. I told Scott I would do it once. I also told him it did not mean I was gay, it was just for money. Scott understood and told me he understood, and I would be helping him. He needed money to bring his wife and one-year-old son to London,

I met with a skinny nerdy man. I felt sorry for him that he had to pay for sex. I was also thinking about what would happen if I got caught. What would my parents think? What would happen when one day became the pope? Still looking back at it, nothing was new when I was doing it, but I did not remember Kevin and when he pimped me out.

Now I had money so I could eat. I went to Mcdonalds and ordered a Mac feast. It was the best meal I ever had.

Scott was happy as well and told me I would make a better prostitute than a security guard. He said I looked like a boy dressed for Halloween with the uniform on. I said no to his offer.

The shop was a nice place with very nice people. There were two things I did not like. One was the shop manager that was a grumpy man that was obviously bitter. He had no respect for me and treated me like dirt. The other thing was standing up for 10 hours. It was a nightmare and nothing you ever get used to. There were tricks on how to make it better like walking around the shop or leaning against something. The music did not help, as they played 10 songs over and over again. Maybe this is one reason why I do not like Abba.

The customers were nice at the shop and so were the staff. I spoke most of the time with a girl called Sharon and she quickly became a girlfriend. This made working at the shop fun. She was very beautiful! She had long black hair, a nice face and small and slim. Her best feature was her smile. She was also a dreamer, as she would tell me where we would live and how many children we would have. She had the future planned for us.

She did not know that about once a month, I would let Scott pimp me out. This was also something I tried to forget as soon as it was over. I would buy Sharon a present from the money I got from it thinking it would make me feel better.

Being a security guard was not dangerous. I was never trained for it. It basically meant that I stood there and made people think twice. Around Christmas, I was walking around the shop and letting time pass by when I saw an old woman trying to avoid me. I didn’t think much about this, as security guards made some people feel uneasy. However, I got a glimpse of her putting something in her bag. As she left the shop, I asked her to come back. She was mad and upset but I held my stance. She came back to the shop where the manager told her to go to the office. He gave me a bad look and told me I better be right. I was not all that certain so I spent the next hour in panic for my job. The manager came down and said she stole some chicken and has been arrested. He told me my job was not to catch people but to deter them from stealing… I ruined this woman’s Christmas. I was in shock! I caught a shoplifter and was being told off! I did feel sorry that I ruined her Christmas.

One day I was speaking with the Marilyn Monroe look-alike that lived at the house. She was a good friend. She told me that she knew I was also a prostitute and told me to think about it. I was only 19 and had my life before me. I was cute and looked much younger than 19, so people would use this against me. She told me to concentrate on Sharon, as that was true love. Do not do anything that would screw my mind.

I wrote to an order called the Camilians. They took care of old and sick people. A part of me still wanted to be in a religious order.

Sharon and I went on one date, and this was a disaster. She admitted it was her first date. We went to London and walked around looking at all the attractions. She did not say much. Every time I asked her what she wanted to do, she told me it was up to me. This was a common thing that day. She wanted me to decide everything. Maybe this was a sign from God telling me to join the Camillians. After the date, the relationship between Sharon and I deteriorated. I never broke up with her, I just let things fade. She was confused as she thought I was the one.

I agreed with the Camilians that I would move into old peoples home they had and do some voluntary work.

It was a good time to go, as Scott took over a contract that the security company had. The bosses thought I was involved which was not the case. I would most likely have been fired.

So with 800 pounds in my bank account, I went back to Ireland after 6 months as a security guard.

I was now a volunteer at Saint Camilians nursing home. I had my own room and I ate with the priests and brothers. Compared to the white fathers, I was so happy there, and it is, in fact, one of the happiest times in my life. I was no longer the rebel I was at the White Fathers, I was determined that this would work. The only problem I had was that I was very careful with the other priests. I did not know what to say to them. I wanted them to like me, and in that way, I was so careful when I was around them.

The first man I helped was old and impossible to understand. He complained at the least thing and was often overlooked. So despite he was grumpy, I helped him get up every morning. I took my time when I did this. I talked and talked to him about what was happening in the country and the gossip from the home. In time he became less grumpy and listened to the latest news. I never had a close relationship with him; in fact, I did not like his company all that much. However what sort of caregiver would I be if I did not take care of them that I did not like?

There was an old woman I liked. She was like a grandmother to me. I used to spend hours with her every day. She was bedridden as she lost her legs. So I would help her on the bedpan, and turn her in the bed so she got no sores. Then we would sit and speak. It suited her as she did not have a family that visited her.

I was supposed to be at the home 7 hours a day, but I was there in all my waking hours. I tried to speak to everyone every day. There was an old senile woman that thought I was her son. This was an ethical problem for me if I should let her believe that. The head nurse advised me to, as she was an old woman without visitors. I visited her and talked with her and played along. Once she asked me to help her to the bathroom. I pushed her wheelchair to the bathroom and as I lifted her to the toilet, her leg slipped and hit the wheelchair. She was bleeding badly. I called for a nurse and they took her back to her bed and bandaged her up. The doctor gave her a few stitches. I was devastated and despite the nurses saying it was not my fault, I knew deep down I was. I was so happy being there and thought I was doing a great job. So when this happened it must have been a punishment for my pride. When I was cleaning the bathroom, I found a golden bracelet and put it in my pocket. I was not ready to see her. I felt so bad.

The next day, I rushed to her room and there were nurses surrounding her. She died that night. I clutched the golden bracelet in my pocket and seen them prepare her body. They were putting cotton wool in her bum. This was so strange to see and at the same time, I felt like I killed her. I also felt like I stole her bracelet. It was in my pocket and I was afraid to give it back. I later gave it to my mother.

I did not deal with her death very good, and this was because I was guilty. Another woman was dying a few months after. She had no family so I sat beside her bed. It took several days to die, and it was not a great experience. Her breathing became shallower and it was harder for her, as she gasped for air at times. She put up a fight and I spent all my living hours beside her in silence and praying. I did not want her to die alone. The other nurses told me to take a break. I refused except when I needed some sleep. It was during a break that she died.

Not everything was bad. There was a girl there that was very pretty and she thought I was very cute. She quickly became a girlfriend. This meant that I was spending less time at work and more time visiting her. She was a volunteer in the kitchen, so I spent a lot of time in the kitchen. This, of course, caused a problem, as I was here to be a priest, and yet I had a girlfriend. I was split but decided it was wise to see how this relationship went.

I found out that girls really liked me. It was during a party that was held for the staff that I was surrounded by 4 girls. Of course, my GF was beside me all the time. It made her mum joke that one would think I was a teen idol. I smiled and enjoyed the party until I saw the head of vocations (The priest that was to help me enter the order) looked at me and frowned.

As I said, I was very happy there. I felt like this was the life for me. I was even willing to give up my GF to be a priest. I was happy without sex in my life. Despite this, deep down I was afraid of all my sins. I was after all a male prostitute in England. I did not think about my childhood as this was hidden someplace in my mind. Worse was that I was afraid I was a paedophile. I knew that I could never harm a child. This became a major thought when I used to masturbate to a picture. It was the backside of a naked man and woman; however, there were also two children. I convinced myself that I masturbated to the woman, but was always in doubt. The fear I was a paedophile was big one day when a student priest came into my room and I know he saw this picture.

What was my sexuality? A normal healthy one? Gay? Bisexual or God forbid a paedophile.

The vocation priest said I was not ready to be a priest. He suggested I should go and work like any normal person and use these years to understand the world and gain more respect and self-confidence. I was in tears. This was another refusal in my life dream of serving in the Church.

So what now?

The answer came from the strange boy I met a year before. Jonas told me that he worked in England in a hospital where handicapped lived. He had set up an interview for me. I did not think so much about this and took the ferry once again to England. I was interviewed by an Irish woman and an Italian man. John told me what to say but I decided to be honest with my answers. I got the job.

I now lived in a room in a staff house. The fourth night that I lived there, I felt so lonely. Jonas was doing a shift and I was alone in my little room. Then I was told there was a phone call for me. It was from Scott. I heard I was back in England and he really needed a cute boyish man to please a customer.


	8. True Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now at 20, the man has a choice of loving someone or being used by people

The answer came from the strange boy I met a year before. Jonas told me that he worked in England at a hospital where handicapped lived. He had set up an interview for me. I did not think so much about this and took the ferry once again to England. I was interviewed by an Irish woman and an Italian man. Jonas told me what to say but I decided to be honest with my answers. I got the job.

I now lived in a room in a staff house. The fourth night that I lived there, I felt so lonely. Jonas was doing a shift and I was alone in my little room. Then I was told there was a phone call for me. It was from Scott. He heard I was back in England and he really needed a cute boyish man to please a customer.

I said yes.

The job was to take care of handicapped adults in what was considered their home. I found out that Jonas was not very popular. In fact, no one liked him there, so when it was lucky that I was employed. I got on well with the staff, particularly because I did what I was told and when there was a problem, I told them what I thought. The work consisted of helping them with meals, and washing their clothes and making sure their room was tidy. Besides that, we reminded them of daily things, like taking showers and going to their daily activity. We also took them to doctors and dentists. I loved doing this, as it meant I could come away from the building.

There were a few things that I disagreed with. One was that they each did not get their own room. These were adults! The worse I was seen was when we gave them tea. We would pour milk and sugar into the teapot and in this way, they did not have a choice of how they wanted their tea. It was 1989, so the nurses there thought that structure and routine was the right thing to do. Looking back at it, we were supposed to prepare the handicapped for life in a small house in society. This dream was crushed when we did not give them any choice.

Outside of work, I had to invest in things that I needed, such as kitchen things, a TV and a bike to get around. I had no driving license, as my Dad would never give us the money to get one. I figured it would take me ages, to save the money for this, so I decided I would use the hidden side of me. It was summer, so I found some denim shorts and a tank top and went to a parking lot. I think I must have walked around for an hour and then a man came and asked me how much. I went home with him and he got what he paid for. After, He wanted me to spend the night, so he paid me extra. He thought I was very cute, and did not understand why I wanted to be a whore. He thought it would be better if I had a boyfriend. I tried telling him that I did not consider myself gay.

I bought a white bike the next day.

There were about 20 people in the same staff building I was in. I was friends with 4 of them. One was a biker girl. She had so many tattoos and was interested in things I was not. She was a bit dangerous. I suppose this is why I liked her.

Another was a man that was a small bit older than me. He was very sloppy and played on the computer all the time. His room was messy like a bomb hit it and he did not care. Besides that his room always smelled funny, as if he was always playing with himself.

Jonas lived in the same building. So I spent a lot of time in his room

Otherwise, there was a Danish girl. She was so beautiful. I am sure she could have been a model. I was always so shy when I was with her. I think this made her smile. At any case, she came to my door and told me that I had to meet a new Danish girl that just moved in. I was told she was a religious fanatic. I was interested and agreed to meet her. She was a very thin girl, with no make-up and short hair. She was wearing jeans and a knitted jumper that was in many colours. My first thought was that she was a tomboy. The girls sat down and talked in Danish, I had no idea what they were speaking about, so I just looked around her room. There were religious posters. They were cute with small Bible quotes. Maybe the girl was a fanatic; she had posters, a Bible beside her bed and a cross. Her name was Mia. I left soon after, as I felt ignored because they spoke in Danish, which was not a language I understood.

A few days later, Mia came to my door and asked if I had a pot she could loan. I already cooked but was too lazy to wash up. I wished she came and asked for sugar. I gave her my pot but told her she had to wash it first. She smiled and took the pan. A few hours later, she came back with the pot. It was clean. She asked me if I wanted a cup of tea. So I went to her room and drank tea. We spoke and spoke and spoke. We both had to get up the next day but did not care. We just spoke and spoke. She was not a fanatic girl. She was quite normal.

This continued for the next week. Mia was also busy, because it was soon Christmas, and she was going to visit her parents in Denmark. We still had tea every night and spoke about everything under the sun. It was not love at first sight, as I thought she was a tomboy and medium looking. However, she had a great personality and I loved being with her.

The only annoying thing was when she was together with other Danes. They would start speaking Danish and that meant that I could not understand a word. I would ask that they speak English. This would last a few minutes and they would go back to Danish. Once Jonas and I tried speaking in Irish, but that plan flopped because we could not remember it.

It was best when Mia and I were alone. We never considered we were in love. However, we did consider ourselves to be best friends. Looking back on it, we were in love but could not see it. I hated the idea that she was going to visit her parents at Christmas. I was going to miss her.

The night before she went to visit her parents, I suggested we go for a walk. We walked in the cold night and talked. At one stage she said her hand was cold and I said we should have worn gloves. Still, she kept complaining that her hands were cold, and I finally understood her hint. I experienced sex and a lot touching, but when we held hands, it was like I was in a new world, where I could hear angels sing and I was walking on clouds. I forgot everyone that ever used me and everyone that hurt me. It was then that I knew I was in love! I knew then that Mia was a gift from God.

The only thing was if Mia felt the same?

I took a train with her to the airport and helped her on the plane back to Denmark the next day. I was alone once again and it was Christmas, so I took all the shifts I could. Every evening I rang to Mia on the telephone and we spoke until my money was used upon the payphone. I think we both knew we were in love at this stage. Her parents knew as they smiled at how Mia used to run to the telephone when I rang her.

When Mia was in Denmark, I visited the friends I had at the home. It helped pass the times. Jonas was still there, and he invited me down to his room for a drink. He kept on offering me one drink after another drink and I ended totally drunk. Everything was like a blur to me, but he said that he told me he wanted me before I gave my heart to Mia. He ended up having sex with me on his small bed as well as taking pictures of me. The next day I knew what happened and wondered when will I ever be free of my past? I asked him to destroy the pictures. He promised he did, although I doubt it very much. After that, I was very negative about Jonas, he soon moved from the hospital and studied to be a nurse.

I did miss him. It was as reality struck me when we had sex and I was still cursed knowing I had sex with him. I had to think of Mia. She was innocent and never tried love and she was protected from the evils that I experienced. The thing was could I make her happy? Was my past be a curse that would destroy what we could have? Was the love we felt just puppy love. I felt so soiled and so used, so the question was did she deserve me?

Could I live in a dream world with Mia?

The day came when she was on her way back from Denmark. I went and met her at the airport. It was a surprise, as she did not expect me to. I told her that I was working. She was delighted when I was there. Later, she told me it was because I met her at the airport, she knew it was love.  
We were back to normal and we ate together and were together when we were not working. We were becoming closer and closer every day.

One day, we were walking with two patients. They were in wheelchairs as we explored Epsom, which was the town we lived in. It was cold, as there was a bit of snow. We walked past a few shops that sold wedding dresses. I knew by the second wedding dress and the way Mia was hinting because she stood outside the window and said how pretty they were. I pretended to be dumb as my brain was now in turmoil again. I still had a dream to be a priest and if I got married to Mia, I would have to give this dream up. As we walked, I thought I would never be happy as a priest, as I would just be hiding from society.

But was the feelings I had... was it puppy love?

We ate at Pizza Hut with the two patients. We were still talking about marriage and married life. I finished by taking a deep breath and asked her if she would marry me. It wasn’t the most romantic proposal and my heart must have jumped when she said yes. It was then official. I was engaged. I felt like I went through a new door and a new start to my life.

You would think Pizza hut would give the pizza free. They did not

When we came home, we rang our parents. Mia’ parents were totally excited about it. When I spoke to Mia’s mother, I could hear how excited she was except that she spoke in Danish, so I did not understand much. When I spoke with my parents, my mom asked about the priesthood. My dad asked if Mia was pregnant. They were not as excited as Mia’s parents were. That was ok. Despite I was upset with my parent's reaction, I knew I wanted to get married. As I knew I was engaged, and it was time for me to be myself, a new leaf of the family.

I wanted to open a new door in my life. I wanted Mia to be the centre of it. Gone would be the days where I would be someone's toy, and gone would be the days where my body would be a public asset. Mia offered me a life where I could be normal and forget everything in my past.

We needed an engagement ring and I considered going out to places and selling myself one last time so we had the money for the rings. However, I decided a new start meant a new start. I was now engaged and this means I would have to earn money in ways that normal people do. It ended up that Mia paid for the rings. This was not humiliating as I thought. It meant we were not old fashioned and we would be doing things together.

This new start meant I wanted a new image. For some time, I have been telling people to use the short version of my name. I also wanted to change the way I looked. One thing that men always told me how nice was my eyes and hair. So I changed it by buying hair dye. I have done this before, but this time I had a goal. I dyed it a black colour. I made a mess of it. My hair did become very black, but so did my face and neck. Mia thought it was very funny and helped scrub the black off my skin.  
The funny thing is her parents came a few days later, to see their daughter and to see who she was getting married to. Her dad was a teacher and was a quiet man as well as a very intelligent man. Mia was obviously his daughter and there is not a thing he would not do for her. This was my first impression of him. I never really became close to him, maybe it was because the relationship I had with my dad or maybe it was just that we were so different.

Mia's mum was a nurse and a lively woman as well as an open woman. She was plain and was not like my mother who was very glamorous. She was very easy to talk with although she spoke in Danish and English. I could see that Mia had very much the personality of her mother.

The visit went fine. I had to laugh at that they had a travel plan, of what they would see and when they would see it. This was the opposite of what my family would do. We would just visit a place and ask what now? Still, we visited many interesting things such as Stonehenge and some places in London. We ate at pubs and otherwise had a good time. It was strange calling them mother and dad in law. In fact, it was strange that I was engaged, and this meant a whole new family besides mine.

When their parents went, it was sort of empty, and it was Mia and I that were left together. We started having a daily life as if we were married. We even moved into the same room. My room was used as a sitting room and hers was where we slept. So we did something my parents would have killed me about. We slept in the same bed before marriage. We did not have sex; in fact, it took us months even to see each other naked. We decided that we would not have sex before marriage and this respecting the fact that I was her first boyfriend, and also because I wanted to be in love with her, and this meant not just sexually. I was the luckiest man on earth, and I wanted time to stay there. I even threw a clock out the window, as a sign that I wanted time to stop.

We were, in fact, a strange couple. People must have thought that it was puppy love. In fact, some people said to me that I was too young to get married. Mia and I were once buying wine when the shopkeeper asked me for an identification that I was over 18. I was 20! Then the shopkeeper saw Mia and said it’s good I had my older sister with me, as she could buy the wine. She was one year younger than me!

I told Mia we should have an engagement party, and she was sceptical about having a British style party, as she knew that I once arranged a surprise party for Jonas. That party had lots of booze and even a stripper. Which was funny as Jonas was gay. It was the hot party of the month. If they expected the engagement party to be the same, then they would be disappointed. It was like an old-fashioned tea party, where we all sat and conversed in corners. There was no dancing. Some from my workplace asked when will the party living up. I told them I was having fun, as I was in a corner with Mia.

Mia and I kissed a lot when we were engaged. We would kiss anywhere and everywhere….In elevators, in the middle of a shop, our room. Every time she kissed me, I knew she was the true love of my life.

One night we were walking, she told me that she was careful about even falling in love with me. She had rumours that I went from one girlfriend than the other. I knew I would have to tell her about my past. She had to know what she was getting. I told her that I had a few girlfriends, but my childhood was not the best. I had good parents, even though I did not speak so much with my dad. I told her I never was as romantic with girls as I was with her. Mia listened while I told her that I was abused in some ways, and I was afraid that my boundaries were destroyed. She stopped and told me I was a good person. I tried telling her I was afraid I would like forbidden things in the wrong way. She hugged me hard and said we will go through this together.

The day after, we seemed to forget all about the serious talk. Basically, I was telling her I was damaged goods and damaged goods were capable of hurting others. I had this great fear that I was a paedophile. When I looked at children, I looked at them in a near-sexual way. I knew deep down I would never hurt them. The fact that I was in doubt felt like I was hanging on a cross. Mia must have wondered or thought about it, or maybe she really believed a fairytale had a bad start but always ended well.

The funny thing was my past was being buried and buried in that back of my head as time went on. I tried telling Mia, and we really did not discuss it at that. There were times I was suicidal and depressed like I woke up with tears going down my cheeks, but I was forgetting more and more the reason for it.

Mia was all that I cared about. When we were not working, we did everything together. She bought a very old bike from a lady she worked with. We spent days repairing it so it would work, and then painting it a very strong blue colour, I do not know what was bluer, as we had a paint fight with the paint on our hands. We were soon wrestling next to the bike as people walking by most likely thinking we were childish.

I have applied to be a qualified nurse and was accepted in Westminster hospital, which was a great opportunity as it was a hard hospital to get in. This, of course, annoyed Jonas, that was never accepted there. He was accepted in a less know hospital, so he left where we worked. This was a bit hard for me, besides despite all his faults, what he did to me and the fact that no one liked him, he did bring me to this job and in many ways, and I admired him for not fitting in.

I should have been delighted for being accepted as a nurse. The problem was so was Mia and this was in Denmark. Reality has hit us and we had to decide what to do. Mia told me she wanted to be close to her family. She did not want to live in England. My fear was I didn’t know anything about Denmark, except it, was densely populated and had a lot of highways. Plus the fact that they spoke another language. If I was to be in Denmark, I would have a huge handicap. How would I even get a job? It made more sense for both of us. Living in England would be a similar sacrifice for both of us.

Of course, we decided to move to Denmark. The deal was that she would study to be a nurse, and we would come back afterwards. I could live with that.

We had to save money as we would be starting a new life together. So we took extra shifts to earn extra money. The problem with this was that we hardly saw each other. So I came up with a plan to once again use my body. So one night I took my bike and cycled out to the pickup place. I quickly found a man and he was willing to pay twice as much as I used to get. We put my bike in his van and drove to his place. So there I was, sitting on a sofa. I tried to forget my past and I tried telling myself I was doing this for Mia. As he was about to open my shirt, I jumped up and ran out.  
If I sold myself once again, I would be going against the promise I made. It would be cheating. My body now belongs to Mia. Unlike others, she is the one that respected not only my body but my mind and personality.

I met Jonas once at burger king. He was very jealous that I wanted to marry Mia. He thought we could live together. I tried explaining that a lot happened since he got me drunk. I don’t think he was listening. He ate half a burger and went up complaining it was cold. Then he ate half another burger and done the same. I was so shocked when we parted, but I bet he was full!

We now were ready to move to Denmark. We spent the week before saying goodbye to everyone. There was a middle-aged woman that lived there. She thought we were too young to get married. Mia would be 20 and myself 21 when we did get married. We were optimistic that it would not fail. Of course, statistics were against us, and deep down we knew there was a chance. She gave us an ugly green cigarette holder and said that’s the remains of her broken marriage, now we can have it.

We knew we were in love. Why did everyone warn us?


	9. Marriage Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will marriage save the man from his memories?

It was a lot of work getting married, and I had really very little influence on it. It was basically Mia's parents that were planning the whole thing. It would be a Danish wedding, which had traditions I didn’t know of. I was not bitter at the fact I had little say nor did I complain. I wanted the wedding to be the most special day in Mia’s life.

Before we moved to Denmark, we visited my parents in Ireland. I was a new man. I felt like Mia was the one in the world that could make me happy and give me a normal life. The experiences as a child porn star and prostitute were slowly being stored in the back of my head. I found out when I was with Mia, that I smiled and felt like life was normal.

Despite Mia was a Protestant, my parents got on well with her. Mia was presented to everyone and anyone with pride. I could see in people’s eyes that they thought It was a shame that she was a Protestant, and wasn’t I the one that wanted to be a priest? There was one family that my mum wanted to meet her. This family had a nice status in the town, and while many invited to see Mia, they did not invite us. So, mum had an idea…. She would walk back and forth on the road until we were invited in. We must have looked like idiots walking back and forth. However, we were invited in at last and drank a cup of tea while Mia was presented.

We did have time for ourselves. There were mountains close to me, and this fascinated Mia, as Denmark is quite flat. So one day we hiked up the mountains, which was an all-day event. We left early because the walk would take hours. The trip was tiring and very warm. There were also lots of flies. Yet, we did not complain, as Mia was so interested in nature and the views. I smiled as she would pick up the smallest flower just to smell it, or she would be in awe of the scenery we had. It made me realize that I was searching for God and it was so close to me all the time.

I had one job while I was in Ireland. When I worked at the old people's home, I was very close to a girl. Before I met Mia, we rang to each other and at one stage even planned when she would come to the UK. We were boyfriend and girlfriend, but never put a name on it. This trip would be hard as when I met Mia, I suddenly stopped writing to this girl. I remember we sat in her sitting room while I told her I was going to marry Mia. It was so awkward. Mia did not say anything and the girl was confused and said very little. On my way out, she whispered in my ear that Mia would never make me happy, but causes me grief.

Mia never realized it, but one of my sons was named after this girl.

It was time to go to Denmark. When we came, we had to attend Mia's grandparents golden anniversary. It would show me how Danes partied. There were a few people there and the food was great. Waiters came and offered us more food and wine. The problem is that I thought when the waiter offered me wine; it would be impolite to say no. So this was the first time I was meeting Mia’s extended family and I was getting more and drunk. The good thing is I did not embarrass myself. I know that at one stage, I started to sing “Sailing” which was a good sign that I was well on my way being drunk. Luckily Mia started singing with me. She also helped me go to the toilet. She was not mad at me after for being drunk, once I explained the reason why.

Our wedding came. My parents, my youngest brother, an aunt and Cory came to represent my side of the family. I bought a tuxedo which was quite fashionable and had my hair cut. Looking at old wedding pictures, I looked like a boy dressed up. I was not at all afraid or nervous. I think my parents were as my dad came to me and offered me some pill. I was not going to take it as I wanted to be myself. Images went through my head of when Kevin used to give me pills.

Before we went to the Church, I said I should use the bathroom. I fell on my knees in the bathroom. I told God that I was sorry that I did not join the priesthood. I asked him to protect our marriage, as it was an angel getting married to damaged goods. I asked God to protect any children I would have and give them a better life.

The wedding was in a Protestant Church and I thought it was great that I could even drag my parents into the church and they would accept that we were being married in a protestant church (Although a few days later we were dragged to a Catholic church where we were blessed). I could not understand what was being said or happening. I knew when to say yes and I knew when to give her a kiss. All through the wedding, there was a tear in my eye. Mia was so beautiful and we were now suddenly promising to be with each other all our life!

When the Church service was done, we stood outside and everyone had to shake our hands. I didn’t have a clue what they were saying, so I was so happy when my mom came and told me how proud she was. At least I could understand what she was saying.

The party was the same as any Danish party. It had good food where we all ate and talked with each other. This was not the way it is done in Ireland, but the Irish delegation was polite, even when they were interrupted in eating by someone that wanted to hold a speech or sing a song they made for the party. This was so funny especially when I heard my Dad sigh when he was about to eat ice cream when a speech started. By the time the speech was done. His ice cream was melted

My parents were also shocked by a strange Danish tradition. While Mia and I were dancing the compulsory dance, I was dragged down and someone cut my socks. My parents must have been totally shocked.

My parents were here for a week, yet they were not totally in awe of the Danish culture. They were given flower tea once, in which my dad said it was rusty water. (Since then, they always brought Irish tea to Denmark). Another thing they did not like was Danish lunches, in which Rye Bread and herring is very popular. After lunch every day, my parents said they were going for a walk. It took us a few days to realize that they went to McDonald's all the time.

Soon my parents left, and we were on our way to Tunisia for our honeymoon. We lived at a large hotel. Mia was not the type to lie at a beach all day, so we explored the town and even spent 3 days on a guided trip of the Sahara, where we tried everything from riding camels to seeing an old Coliseum. It was great fun and we decided to have fun as we knew it would be hard starting a new life when the honeymoon was over.

We had a bad experience the last day we were at the hotel. We went for a swim where we lost our keys. This was a bad end to our honeymoon. The travel agency did not help and said we had to pay for the key. The problem is we had no money left. Mia was in tears and angry at the same time. In the end, some nice couple paid for us.

We lived in a small flat that I thought was very modern. It had a very small garden. The first few weeks of our marriage were bliss. We had all the free time in the world that we could be together. We would start by baking some bread, going shopping and taking care of the house. At night was of course project Baby. We also read a chapter of the Bible every day. This was the happiest days in my life, as I was feeling something I never felt before… I was in love with a person and wanted to spend all my time with her! Sex was not the centre of our lives, and I was not always in the mood, but the difference was that sex was now special.

Every day that went by, I forgot the bad things in my past.

Moving to Denmark was very hard for me. The language was one thing. I could not understand a word. The traditions and culture was another thing I did not understand. In a way, everything was planned, and at times very formal. Mia did her best to help me adjust to the new culture. The problem was that I depended more and more on Mia. I had to have her by my side all the time. If she left my side, I would beg her to stay, as I would start to get an anxiety attack. I never knew it was anxiety. This often annoyed Mia.

I did start to go to school and learn Danish. This was together with other foreigners and refugees. I thought it was interesting being together with many others from all over the world. At times, we felt like small children, like we would start every class by playing Bingo. Despite this, I slowly started to learn Danish, although I would never get rid of my accent. This added to my problems in Denmark, as I always felt like a guest like it was not a place I could call my own. I had no connection to Denmark, except I got married to a Dane.

We used to eat at Mia’s parents every weekend. She has a strange family. Her older brother was intelligent and socially awkward. He had quite a temper as well. Her younger brother was a typical momma’s boy. He was very interested in Disney and anything to do with films. His body language was a bit gay, so I always thought he was gay. He also clung a lot to his mom and that made me raise an eyebrow. (Despite I thought they were weird, they both now are married and live good lives, so they get the last laugh)

When we ate at her parent's house, it would be great food and lots of wine. The discussions would be very deep, and if they were too deep and people did not agree, a book would be taken out to see who was right. I sat and participated in these discussions and at times tried my best to provoke. I did not need wine to do this; however, it did make me do things I was not proud of. One time, when I was half-drunk coming home, Mia and I had an argument about coming to Denmark. In the end, I said if she really loved me, she would go to the store and buy me a porno magazine. At first, she tried asking me why, was she not good enough for me? Was our sex life not good enough? Did I come to my senses? No! She went up and got the porno magazine.

Mia loved me! I loved her! Why was I so evil?

After the porn magazine crises, I decided that I had to be grown up and stand on my own two feet. I looked at the newspapers to see if I could get a job. I could simply not find a job, as in Denmark, you need higher education. At last, I found a job at Tivoli, where I worked in one of their restaurants. People paid a high price for food that was warmed up in microwaves. Of course, that restaurant made a loss, so I was moved to a stall selling ice cream. This was harder as you can imagine, as making a soft ice cone takes practice, as you have to twist the cone all the time. He opened his stalls and restaurants too early, so it ended up that he had to let me go, as he went bankrupt.

I went back to learn Danish. Mia suggested I get a higher education. She suggested a job as a “paedagog”, which is a special needs teacher. I told her that I did not know enough Danish. I applied anyhow as it could take several attempts to be accepted.

We were still trying to get a child. So every month, Mia would tell me that she was now having her period. I would try and use my humour to cheer her up that we should continue to try, as that was the fun bit!

However one month, she told me that her period was late. I could not believe it! To make sure, we bought a pregnancy test and this proved positive. I could not believe it, I was going to be a Dad, and my child would have the best mom in the world. Like all other parents that are expecting, we were discussing how we would raise the child and names and whatnot. We were so happy!

A few days after the pregnancy test was positive, Mia told me, she had her period. We were sad and we were mad. Mia wrote to the company that made the test. The answer was not so compassionate. They wrote that Mia most likely had a miscarriage!

I was now in a depressed move. Denmark was so difficult for me and I missed having my old friends and family. In reality, I was on my way to a depression, but neither Mia nor I could see this. On a day when Mia was at nursing school, I decided I enough. I couldn’t tell myself why. I decided to commit suicide. I did this since I was a teenager. It's like some people get drunk and even some cut themselves to feel better. I tried putting a plastic bag over my head while she was at school. That did not work so I ate some tablets. When Mia came home, I was tired and worn out, but did not say anything about what I have done.

Mia was a scout all her life, so she was a leader after we got married for 8-9 olds. She told me that I should join her as a leader. This was my social life and friends for the next few years. I became very popular as a leader and found out that children could understand my Danish more than adults could. Mia and got more and more responsibilities, and at the end, we were in charge of PR, besides that, I found out that I enjoyed working with children. I had plenty of ideas on what to do with them, and I did enjoy being liked and wanted. I remember once, a mother told me that her son looked up to me and I was a role model for him. Mia was also a great leader and we worked well together. This was in the early 90s. Years later, I was impossible to work with, but I will get to that later.

A few months after the possible miscarriage, Mia told me that her period was late again. This time we did not buy a pregnancy test, we went to the doctors. Mia was pregnant! This time we were sure that we would-be parents. So the next few months we're getting ready for the new baby. We moved to a larger flat, so we would have more room. We slowly got things that we would be needed for the baby. We had several boy names and several girl names for the child. We invited Mia's family to a pizza evening where each pizza was named after one of these possible names.

I was in doubt through all the pregnancy. I knew that Mia would be a great mom, but I was in doubt I would be a good dad. In some ways Mia strengthened this doubt as if she needed any practical help, she would always run to her dad and get his help. She never thought of how this would hurt my pride. She just knew her dad would help and he was capable of doing it. Despite the fact that I begged her to ask me for help, she would always ask her dad. This caused a lot of strain in our marriage as Mia could not see it was a problem. If we lived in Ireland, I would have mostly done the same thing. I would have asked my dad.

We often went to her grandparents. As you can see Mia had a very close family. I grew to hate these trips for several reasons. First, the house was so old and for some reason, I always had allergies when I went there! Second, it was basically eating all the time which I considered so boring. These trips also made me miss my family more and remind me of my grandmother that I lost years later. Mia could see I did not like these trips, and she could not understand why. At that time I could not understand either and could not tell her what the problem was. Mia tried to make these trips romantic, as we took lots of walks through the forest and at times we would cook food. This made me think that it was always me that was being impossible and selfish.

If you asked me at this stage if I was ever abused as a child, I would have said no… as it was now locked in some part of my mind. It showed itself at times, usually at night when I would wake up after some flashback dream of something that happened. The problem is that I thought it was only a dream and that it never really happened. (Years later, I was told by my mother in law that I told her I was abused as a child. I do not remember telling her this)

Once down at the beach, I told Mia that I would not be a good dad. She tried telling me that she would. This was often Mia’s response to problems. She wanted to discuss them but often thought the answer was that being positive was the answer. As we were walking through the sand, I told her that I thought that I could be a paedophile and how would I be a good dad? I opened up and was totally honest when I told her that even at scouts; I thought some of the children were attractive. I knew that I could never hurt a child. This was enough for Mia and I think we changed the subject very quickly.

Looking back on it, I knew at this stage that I had some paedophile tendencies. I did think that children were attractive and even sexual. A child that has been abused often has its boundaries moved, and many that are abused make the same mistake and abuse children. However, when I was with the scout children, I was down at their level. I never thought about these tendencies when I was with them. My wish was to make scouts fun for them and give them more social skills. So Mia was right in a way… this was in my head, and not being practised, I was ok. In a way, she could never have been so wrong. It's easier to be wiser as we grow older, as I know how it should have been then we discussed it in detail and I got some help, as it was starting to destroy my mind and me as a person.

Maybe we did not have time to discuss it. Maybe we did not want to even think and realize that in many ways, I was broken. I thought marriage would heal all my wounds. It just made me forget the reason why I was becoming more and more impossible to live with.

We also had a child on the way. I realized this when we were sleeping outside in a tent at the summerhouse when Mia put my hand on her swollen belly. It was our child kicking!

The pregnancy was not a hard one for Mia, and she seldom complained. I was excited and wanted to help all I could. I put earphones from my Walkman against the tummy so my child could hear Madonna, I painted a silhouette picture of Mia with a big tummy and I tried my best being practical.

The child should have been born Christmas eve, but it had no attention of coming. Each day that went after Christmas Eve was a long day, expecting the child to come at any stage.

I was a big fan of the Simpsons, and it was at the start of the Simpsons show that Mia told me it was time! I rang to her mom, who was at our flat in no time. She told Mia it was too early to go to the hospital. So I joked to Mia, that we could see the Simpsons and then go to the hospital.

So after The Simpsons, we went to the hospital. My mind was all confused. I could not believe that we would be coming home with a baby.

Mia was in the hospital bed. I was by her side. Never did she look so beautiful. Even when she clenched my hand with the pains she had, she looked like an angel. The nurse told me to look at our baby was now on the way out. As it slowly came out, my heart was beating at the miracle of life.

Mia was tired and asked what sex was the child.

I told her we had a boy!


	10. The Black Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life gets harder

Mia was in the hospital bed. I was by her side. Never did she look so beautiful. Even when she clenched my hand with the pains she had, she looked like an angel. The nurse told me to look at our baby was now on the way out. As it slowly came out, my heart was beating at the miracle of life.

Mia was tired and asked what sex was the child.

I told her we had a boy!

We decided to name him Christopher. It was now that the unique miracle of life hit me. We gave life to a boy. Now we were responsible for his life and his future. We had to make sure he was dressed, educated and had a good personality. The responsibility we now had was overwhelming! I would never have realized this if I studied to be a priest. There the idea of being a dad would be theoretical. One night, I went out to our small garden and lifted Christopher up over my head and prayed to God that we would succeed.

When I looked down at him, a tear would come to my eye as he was the perfect child. I was so honoured to be his dad and so proud. It is strange as this feeling grew more and more as he grew older, despite I did not always show it.

Christopher was an easy baby. He slept well, ate well and did not cry so much. I was the perfect dad at the start. When it was my turn to get up and see why he was crying, I would. I fed him when he was old enough and I used to sit with and play with and listen to Madonna songs. This dedication became less and less which is something I regret to this day.

The reason why I spent less and less time with Christopher was that I was becoming more and more depressed. Living in Denmark was hard. Mia had her daily studies, her family and friends. I felt like I was in a no man's land, void of friends and family and I felt so unproductive. This changed slowly my personality. I became more self-absorbed and more selfish. I knew Mia loved me. However, I wanted to show I was still a person and still had a purpose in society. I do not think others thought I was useless. The result was that I slowly was putting nails in the coffin that would potentially destroy the best marriage ever.

I picked on fights with Mia. Everything she did was wrong! I wasted no time in getting into a fight, and this happened over the least thing. Maybe it was because I was depressed, maybe it was because I wanted to show Mia I still was a person, despite I felt alone and worthless. These fights were over small things and led my personality in a negative ring, where I was selfish and believing Mia wanted to live in Denmark, so she would control me. This was not the case. Mia tried to help me in every way she could.

Once, when we were arguing, Mia stood up to me. She usually just let me explode and wait until I settled down, but now we had Christopher, and despite he was a baby, he could see everything. She could not take my mood swings anymore. I was so mad, and not even thinking straight when I took one of her most prized possessions, which was a unique hand-blown glass, and shattered it on the ground. This was one of the worse things I ever did in my life.

Despite this glass meant so much to Mia, she forgave me. I told her I did not know what was happening to me. I was in a strange country with no friends or family. I could not understand the language. Even the religion was not mine. Mia said it was about time we visited Ireland, so I could see my parents again.

We borrowed her mother's car and drove down to Holland to take a ferry to Ireland. On the way, our old relationship where we were in love slowly shone more and more. It was like things were when we first met each other. The trip was fun and the only problem we had was when the car got a flat tire on the ferry. I did not want to show that I did not know how to change a flat tire, so I held Christopher while Mia changed the tire. Some people that seen this thought it was very funny, that the husband was taking care of the baby as the wife was changing the wheel.

We stayed for a few weeks with my parents, and I was in heaven that I could speak the language and understand the customs. Despite this, I hurt my brother's feelings when we visited his house. His sitting-room was painted in a very strange green colour. I said innocently that it was good that he would paint it a better colour. He already painted it, and he liked the colour! He was so hurt over my comments that he did not speak with me for two decades!

I hurt my parents as well. One evening when we were talking, I told them that we are doing well in Denmark. Mia was studying and I was getting unemployment assistance. We had enough money and were not living off of cat food. I said this so they would not have to be worried about us living in poverty. My parents misunderstood this, thinking I was boasting of living off of social welfare. My mom went so far as to say they were embarrassed because I was so proud of being on unemployment assistance. She did not understand that you needed a third level of education to get a job in Denmark. Even people that cleaned streets had been at courses. She did not understand that I had to learn the language.

The Irish trip was a success as it helped me breathe, but it also made me believe less in myself. When you have parents that are embarrassed by you, then it not only hurts, but you doubt if they are right.

We did try to make friends. Mia was part of a Bible Study group in English. They discussed a passage from the Bible. It was here, I let some of my aggression out. I provoked the others over many things and after a while, they considered me to be a provoker. This upset Mia. She often told me to be nicer and not so controversial. The problem was that I never used the Bible as a foundation for my faith, and often my statements and questions reflected this. The Bible study group got us no friends, made me more afraid to say what I thought and made me feel more like an outsider,

Mia still used her dad for any practical problem she had. She never asked me to fix something. She used her mom for emotional things. Her dependence on her parents was annoying at times. It made me feel more like a child playing house.

We still visited her grandparents, which as I explained before made me sick and depended on Mia more. If she left the room, I would beg her to stay. This, of course, annoyed her. I found the solution was to sleep a lot. So in the afternoons I would get tired and sleep the hours away.

It was on one of these trips that I had my first argument with my mother in law. She was in her usual happy mood and we were driving somewhere. I by now substituted her for my mom and she knew this, telling me she considered me as one of her sons, and always will be. This, of course, made me happier and less depressed. The topic of her youngest son was discussed. I said what I thought which was not all that positive, as I basically said her son was weird. This got her mad and said bluntly she did not want to hear about it, as he was her son and when someone said something bad about him, they hurt her. I shut my mouth and did not say anything for the rest of the drive. I knew her son did not have a happy life as he was teased a lot. She did not need to hear it from me.

I found out when we were at the summerhouse that I could paint, as Christopher was with his grandparents and Mia usually just read or played games. For some reason, I hated playing games. I was no good at painting, but it kept me out of trouble, and let Mia have peace from me. It was also relaxing. Her grandparents hung one of my paintings in the bedroom, which was an honour. I do not know if it is still there, 25 years after I did it…

I also decided to become a Danish citizen, so I would not feel like I was such an outsider. This meant I had to give up my American passport and my Irish passport. We went to Copenhagen to give in my American passport, which was strange as so many people were there to get permission to live in the USA, and I was about to give mine up. I had to make a pledge that I would never harm the USA. I also had to give up my Irish passport. As I was about to do this, I had second thoughts. I considered myself Irish. I had family there. It is where I spent most of my life. I decided to remain an Irish citizen.

The Scouts remained one of the areas where I could be happy. We really did not have friends among the leaders in the scouts, but we were quite popular with the children. Mia and I worked together, and we worked quite well together. The fact that I got on best with the children meant that we did a lot of activities with them and went on lots of weekends. We also took Christopher. He was a bit like a mascot. The scouts loved that we took him!

Things were looking brighter for me as I was accepted into the college to study to be a pedagogue, which is a practitioner of pedagogy. The term is primarily used for individuals who occupy jobs in pre-school education (such as kindergartens and nurseries) in Scandinavia. But a pedagogue can occupy various kinds of jobs, e.g. in retirement homes, prisons, orphanages, and human resource management.

The first day I was there, I was so afraid as I would be trying to get a degree in something in another language, One of the teachers asked if she should do her course in English, which made me smile as it was not certain the others knew how to speak English. I told her that she should do it in Danish. I sat back thinking that this would be a strange education.

I did not have so many friends here, as many found it hard to understand me. These would be the people I would have to work in the future. I tried my best to be understood and tried my best to fit in. However, the time at school was a very lonely time.

One of our friends was working at the scouts. He was from Lebanon and was unemployed; He was a man of a lot of words and thought he had the answers to everything. On one of our weekends, a 13-year-old girl told us he tried to touch her chest. I told her she should be proud of herself for telling someone. The problem was that she did not want to tell the police. Mia and I spent a few hours telling her that she should at least tell her mom. She did not want to do this and made Mia and I promise not to tell. We kept to that promise, but we did kick the man out of the scouts.

The problem was that he was just about the only friend I had. Now he was accused of such a thing which meant I wanted to protect the girl. The girl never did tell the police, but she told her mother, I which I was pleased about.

The fear I had myself of being a paedophile was still there, and I had no one to speak to about it. As I wrote before, the experiences I had as a child were fogged out in my mind and replaced by this fear. I was working at after-school care as a practical experience in my education as a pedagogue, and I quickly became a favourite with the children. The test came when two girls I knew tried to pull down my pants. One girl actually showed me her panties. I quickly told them to stop and was quite mad and upset at them. I gave them a lecture on respecting their bodies and others. It quickly ended with two 9-year-olds that were in tears, ashamed of what they did.

For me, it was a victory. I could have played along, flashing at the two girls. I could even have taken advantage of one girl flashing at me. However, I was the adult that knew it was wrong and told them it was wrong. This lifted my confidence that was in doubt for years. I was so happy. It ended that the two girls established a relationship with me, one where they had an adult they could trust and confide in.

Things did not go so well in my practical experience. Even though I did well with the children, I did not have a working relationship with the adults. I had huge respect and fear of authority figures, so I kept out of their way. This means they could not really judge me and I was hard to get to know. I was told that I failed the practical work because I did not have a body language. They advised me to get some experience and to improve my Danish. This failure was very hard, as I never really failed anything in my life (except for two tests). I was in tears for days thinking my life was over.

I tried once again committing suicide while Mia was at her school and Christopher was at daycare. When they came home, I was sleeping it off.

I got some work at a nursery, where toddlers were. I was hoping that this could get me the experience that I needed and break down the fear that I had when working with other adults. I cannot say that I got a lot of experience with children and working with the adults, as they had me doing their practical work, like washing dishes, cleaning toys, tidying up etc. I was becoming more and more depressed with it and started taking many sick days.

It was at this time that a boy from the scouts became quite attached to me. He had no Dad and this bothered him, so he spoke to me what it was like having no Dad and a mother that always spoke badly about his dad. I couldn’t give the boy much advice, but I listened to him. He started ringing to me at home and this ended with that he visited me all the time. Mia was worried about it, as she said some people would misunderstand an 11-year-old boy that visited me all the time. It ended up after one scout meeting that he did not want to go home. He told us he would go when we went as his mom was not home. After an hour, his mom came and was quite mad. She told me I was not the father of her son, and he was no longer allowed to see me. The strange thing is this destroyed me in a way, as I did consider him to be like a son. It also taught me a valuable message of keeping the distance.

I had a son! He was the centre of my life and in a way, I could understand the boy's mom. 

We moved to a little old house that was nearly falling apart as Mia was once again pregnant. This house was a cosy little house, with a garden full of flowers and fruit trees. Of all the places that I lived, it was here that I was happiest. We did not have a lot of space, but that is what I also liked about it.

We were sure that Mia was pregnant with a girl, and we had several girl names ready. The baby was very late in coming, so the doctors had to start Mia and the birth. Like Christopher, the baby came quicker than we thought. Mia was eating Pizza and the next thing we knew, she was giving birth.

We had another son


	11. Two Princes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite fears of being a paedophile, the man's life gets better with his two boys

Mia gave birth to another boy! As soon as he was born, a nurse took him and several nurses and doctors stood around the baby. The baby did not cry and I could not see what was happening. At the same time, Mia was asking what the problem was and what was wrong. I could not answer as I saw a lot of people standing around the baby and whispering. A tear came to my eye and I was very close to crying as I was certain the baby was in trouble. Why did he not cry?

At last, I heard him cry. I was so overjoyed. I thought I lost him for a while and now he was crying so loud. The doctor explained it was not serious; he just swallowed some foster water.

One of my fondest memories was when we took him home. We stopped to visit Mia’s parents to present our new baby. Christopher was sitting on the sofa with his newly born brother on his knees. Christopher was by now 3½ years old. I was so proud how he looked at his brother and promised that he would take care of him and would be the best big brother. (A pledge he kept since then!)

The baby was named Sebastian. Christopher was an easy baby to take care of, while Sebastian was the opposite. He may have been silent the first few minutes of his life, but then he cried and cried... and cried. Mia was by now a working nurse, and I was trying to get back into school. It was not easy getting up so many times at night. We could not let him rest in a seat; he always had to be carried. The one time that he did not complain was when we took him for a walk in the pram.

We were now living at the little house that was falling down. Despite it was expensive to warm, it was small, it was old fashioned, and we never knew when the roof would fall down, we were happy. It had a huge garden that was overgrown. We sorted that out by inviting everyone we knew to do some garden work and at the end of the day, we fed them, it was fun!

I was busy studying Danish after failing in my education. My mom told me that no one had a third level education in our family. This did not make me feel better and it was not totally right, my aunt was a nurse. I managed to get Danish qualifications that were needed for university. It was now time for me to decide what my future would be.

I spoke with Mia and reminded her that it was time to move back to England or Ireland. She did not think we should. We now had 2 boys and she was just starting her new job. I reminded her of her promise and explained that I felt like an outsider in Denmark. It is so hard living in a country where you feel like you are just a guest and did not belong. Mia did not want to discuss it. She said we were happy in Denmark and we should not even be discussing it. She finished by asking how can I be so selfish that I wanted to uproot the whole family and move to a place they would feel like outsiders. What could I say to this? We stayed in Denmark but agreed that we should move to something bigger.

I would miss the little white house; one of my fond memories was a wedding we planned for some friends of ours. It was an American woman who met someone from the Middle East. She wanted to marry him so he could move to the USA and be safe. Many would think there was no love in this marriage, but I thought there was. In any case, he took great care of her. The wedding was in our garden and we made some good food. It was romantic having a wedding surrounded by roses, tulips and different trees were like being in the Garden of Eden. I felt proud that Mia and I could give someone else a good future.

So I was now stuck in Denmark. I decided that I would study to be a pedagogue once again, but this time it would be on my terms. I would be a pedagogue the way I thought one would be. I would be the best. It was like when I went to the school at Waterford, where I have learned that you had to lick your wounds and try to be stronger and better. So I started again at the training college, 6 months after I failed the previous attempt. The class was a better class than the last class. They did not give me a hard time about my accent, and they listened to what I said.

So things were going well at school and we were a family outside the school. Sebastian still cried non-stop and demanded he was lifted and entertained a lot. Despite this, we loved him without a doubt. I often wonder why I was not disappointed he was born as a girl. I prayed for it and hoped for it a lot. I think it’s Gods will and luck for me. I would have spoiled a daughter, which would not be good! The fact is that he was a healthy boy, despite a loud one. He was just as important to us as Christopher was. I was so proud of my children!

Christopher was another sort of boy. He was extremely intelligent and independent. Despite this, he was socially awkward, which worried me a lot. I would pick him up at kindergarten; I would find him in some corner playing alone. It reminded me of my time at Waterford, where I was alone. I made a mistake as a father here; I panicked and gave Christopher long speeches about being social. Looking back on it, I was forcing him to be social, while telling him at the same time he did not live up to my expectations. I should have known that some children were not as social as others.

One thing that surprised me was his willpower. As a parent, I heard many complain about potty training their children. Mia and I discussed the easiest way of doing this. Our great parent plans never worked, as Christopher does things his own way. One day, he came home and told us he no longer wanted to wear a diaper, so he went to the bathroom and took off the diaper. He had very few accidents. I remember I asked Mia why parents complained about it… just let things to happen at their own pace.

I was still worried about being a paedophile, and at the same time wondering why I was afraid of this. I wrote to the Danish Paedophile organisation and asked for information. I wanted to contact a support group that would give support and help me in case there were some tendencies. There must have been tendencies, otherwise, why would I even consider this as a problem? I was sent a very vague letter and I paid for membership. After their newsletter, I understood that they were pro-pedos. I sent a letter to someone asking if they were afraid of being a pedo. The letter I got back was him boasting how much he liked children and he was happy he met someone that did. He wanted me to answer, but I did not. I told my wife about all this. She was mad at me and embarrassed. The outcome did not end in discussing my fears. We concluded not to pay them anymore and that was the end of that.

We will still scouts and dedicated scouts. I even attended a scout meeting two days after I had a hernia operation. I could hardly stand up and the pain was very bad, but I still went. I had huge pains for the next two weeks, but at least I did my job.

Mia and I communicated in English. It was the language where we used when we met each other and fell in love. I also tried talking in Danish, but she always corrected my Danish. I admit that I also needed to speak English, as it was part of my identity and I needed to relax at times. This had its drawback. There was a woman at Christopher's kindergarten that I was sure she was not qualified as a pedagogue…. After all, I should know… I was studying to be one. I was telling Mia this after collecting Christopher. Of course, I was saying it in English, so he would not understand. I called the woman a witch! Needless to say, the next day at kindergarten, he told the woman that I thought she was a witch

After losing the battle of moving back to England, we moved to a flat that was larger than the little house we moved from. I missed the little house, but at the same time knew it was important that we had an extra room for our boys.

Sebastian was still a difficult child that cried over the smallest thing. One day, I was late going to my school. I had him on the changing table and he was crying his head off. I tried pleading that I was late and we had to be quick. I did not know why he was crying. I tried begging and tried being so nice to him. Nothing seemed to work as I heard the tick-tock of the clock. I ended up giving him a slap on the bum! I vowed never to hit my children and yet I just gave him a slap. I looked at his bum and could see the red print of my hand. Was it that hard? I was worried about what the day-care would say about it. I told the day-care some weak excuse and was in a bad mood all day!

Christopher had a different personality. It was like he was always one step for us in what we thought he could do or how intelligent he was. One day we could not find him, and we searched the whole flat. It was not a huge flat, so you would think that he would be easy to find. We shouted his name and no answer. We were getting worried too as where he could be. Mia even wanted to ring to her parents for help, which was typical. Every thought went through my head. I even considered the possibility that he was kidnapped. When we were in a total panic, we found him in the dryer. Christopher explained that it was a good hiding place and he wanted to try and see what it was like in the dryer.

I often took Christopher to school when we had no classes. This was a dangerous place to take a child as he was surrounded by adults wanting to be pedagogues. Some thought they knew everything about being a child. Once when he was 3, we were sitting in the cafeteria where he sat silently while he wrote his name over and over. Some of the adults thought this was wrong and asked me why we pressure him? I told them it was his own choice and if he wanted to write his own name then so be it. They asked him if he would draw them a cute picture. Christopher said that he did not want to, as he was quite happy writing his name.

Compared to the first time I studied to be a pedagogue, the second time was much better. I passed with flying colours in my first practical. It was after school care with children up to 11 years old. I decided to be myself and use my experience as a scout leader to do a good job. This time I did one thing differently. I made sure that everyone knew what I was doing. The staff knew what was happening and why I was doing it. Sometimes I had all the children under my care, which meant that the other adults could have more coffee. An example of this was when they came from school, about 60 children were in a small room when we played stop dance

I was praised for my work there and even promised a job if they had one when I got my qualifications. The rest of my education was a huge success. For the first time in a long time, I had confidence in myself

Besides the children, study and scouts, I was involved with refugees. My wife and I and a small group started an organisation (called International Friends) that wanted to help refugees in Denmark assimilate and find life easier in Denmark. We visited a refugee centre and organised dinners for refugees and Danes, so we could taste each other's food. This was a huge success and it brought the wars and troubles we saw on TV a bit closer to home. At times, it was heartbreaking, as we have seen people sent home to their home country and God knows what happened to them.

Compared to the helpless feelings I had all my life and wondering what my purpose in life was, I was slowly beginning to find my place. I wanted to be a pedagogue. I also had my children a well and the refugee. It kept me busy, but at the same time, it was changing me. In ways, I was becoming too confident and independent. My wife was still working with me in the scouts and International Friends, but we discussed less and I told her more and more what she could do. She complained at times, but at the end, she chose not to come to meetings where we planned things. She said someone had to take care of the children. It was not always I took her ideas serious or even respected them. It was like I found my niche in Denmark, and I wanted Mia to be a guest when involved, not a partner.

When it was time to do the final exam as a pedagogue student, we had to do a project. I was in a group with two other men. We chose to do a project about child abuse. I never thought about my experiences as a child, as I wrote many times, I totally forgot about this. Everything was going fine until we saw a British video called “No Child of mine”. It was a film about a girl that was abused by her stepdad, prostituted by her father, and later abused by caretakers and prostituted. I had an anxiety attack and could not see the film, at the end of the film, the group talked about how bad the film was while I said nothing. I was in tears all the way home. When I came home I just hid at my desk, not wanting to speak with anyone. It was like I was having an anxiety attack and someone was stabbing me. The problem was that I did not know or realize why my reaction was so evident. The next day I told them I did not want sexual abuse in our project.

The day came when I got my diploma. I was finally a pedagogue. I already had a job and would be starting as a kindergarten teacher the following Monday. It took 8 years in Denmark, but I finally had qualifications and a job. I had children and I felt like people needed me. I did not go and celebrate with my class, I ate a special dinner with Mia to celebrate that we have come so far.

I did not have much time to celebrate, as I started my new job 3 days after.


	12. Before the storm

I got my first job after being qualified as a pedagogue. It was at a little pre-school in the middle of the countryside. It was in the middle of nowhere. There was a pre-school, a school and an after school care, so it was quite special. There were about 20 children in the preschool and we were 3 adults, which was quite good. The job interview was done before my final exams, and it was the only one I was at. Being a man helped me as it was the general consensus that more men should be employed at preschools.

The first day I went to work was special and surreal. I no longer had to win peoples approval. I was now qualified and could be at a pre-school. This was no longer a short-term job or a job that would judge me. I came in full of hope and expectations.

As I said the pre-school was situated in the middle of the countryside, and the children all came from very liberal parents, some were artists and others were farmers. This was an advantage, as we had no children that were in danger or any social problems. Overall it was a small but happy community. Plus as I said we were 3 pedagogues with 20 children, which was far better than other places!

The worse thing about starting at a new place was that I was green. I had no experience. I needed to find my place and find where I can influence things. I worked with two women; one was the same age as me and had quite a dominant personality that wanted everything to be done her way. She also had a temper and often her voice could be heard all over the place. The other one was older and was a bit quiet. She was also the deputy boss so she spent some time in the office.

The first day started with a meeting. I was in a good mood, yet some part of me was afraid as everything was so new. The younger pedagogue whose name was Gretchen welcomed me. She said she knew I was just finished getting my degree, so I was still green and inexperienced. She told me I should just do what they did and follow their example. The smile was wiped off my face and I wanted to explode. I sat there and said nothing, basically because I did not want to cause drama on my first day.

I had a little scooter, which was my transport to work. It struggled away at 25 km per hour, but it gave me lots of time to think. A lot of my thoughts were that I had to prove myself at work. I may have been new on the job, but I had plenty of experience with children. The message I got to just do what they said was an insult. I did not want to be submissive or a helper. I got paid the same for them and had the same contract. I decided I would be myself and hoped no drama would happen.

One of the first problems I got myself in was about cotton wool. I was sitting with children that were cutting animals and colouring them from paper. One girl was doing a sheep, so I asked her did she want to do something I did when I was a child. She was excited so I got cotton wool and told her she could paste some and make the sheep look soft. She smiled as she did this. Gretchen got mad, and this surprised me that someone could even get mad at cotton wool. She explained she did not like cotton wool, it gave her the creeps. She did not want children working with cotton wool . I told her I would remember this, but we have now started, so she could go into the next room.

It took me 30 mins to drive on my scooter to work, and it was one of the first scooters ever made. We had a car, but Mia used that to go to work, as I had no driving licence. One day I remember it snowed so much, that it took me 2 hours to get back. I pushed the scooter through snow and could hardly see what was in front of me and I was cold and wet. I was so tired and shaking because I was cold when I came back, which made Mia smile and help me warm up. I learned that day that we had some extra money so I could take a bus.

I made a rule that when I came home from work that I did not want to be spoken to. I needed a break from the children and Mia’s need to plan and play family. I sat down at my desk and just listened to music or read something. This isolation annoyed Mia that most likely also wanted a rest. In a way, I never forgave her for not returning to the UK. When I started working, I did less and less at home leaving Mia to do the work. Was I Lazy or did I think it was Mia would do the chores anyhow?

It is not like I did not have enough to do at work. Every day I tried to get more respect from the two others. I used the latest theories, so I was a breath of fresh air. I had good relationships with the children, and I was known to be hyper! Despite this, I still overdid it at times. Once a mother was telling me she had a problem potty training her child. She was worried about this for months. This problem was very important to me, as I experienced it when I was younger that I wet the bed. I told her it was important to have patience and gave her information about a hospital that specialised with children that had incontinence problems. When one of the pedagogues that I worked with heard this, she was fuming as the boy was her contact child. In a way she was right, we each had a group of children that we were responsible for, but the mother did come to me, and I tried my best in letting her know how normal it was and where she can get help.

One problem with my work is that I took it home with me. The problems children and their families were not serious, despite this, I wanted the children to have the best start in their lives, so I often sat at home thinking how I could do better at work. I also spoke with Mia’s mother that had knowledge of child psychology. We would discuss some problems children had when we stayed up for dinner. I must admit that we took over the conversation. Looking back, I did it because there was something I felt good about, and in a family where everyone was so intelligent, this was something I was good at. Mia did not like it and said I was like a little child getting my entire mother in-laws attention, so others could not even speak with her.

Needless to say, I started to visit her parents less, which also annoyed Mia.

I can admit that I saved a child's life once. We were eating one day and a child was choking on some food that he was eating. The sound he was making was scary as if he just wanted a bit of air. His face was going blue and you could see the fear in his eyes. The two women I was working with were discussing how to save his life. One was saying we should hang him up by his feet and shake and the other one was saying we should press his stomach. In the meantime, the poor child was gasping for air! I got up and pressed his stomach and luckily he spat out the food he was choking on. The two women were quiet for a few minutes after while I sat with the little boy, calming him down after such a dramatic experience. Then they unified in telling me that what I was done was dangerous, as I could have broken his ribs. I was speechless, we saved this boy’s life and all they could say that I endangered his life! When did they plan on saving his life?

Christopher recognised something about pedagogues very early in his life. He thought we were very good at talking about children but at times we could not be with them.

We had a pedagogue weekend. This is where we stayed at some house for a weekend and talked about our work. I hated it a lot, as it meant I would be away from my secure home. It meant that I had to be social. I hated especially that we had to sleep there. I do not think there is anyone in the world that snores louder than me. I always thought it would give Mia tinnitus.

In the evening, we played two strange games. First, someone acted like one of the parents, and as others had to guess. It was not flattering and reflected the strange side of parents and their families. Another strange game was to guess what job each child would have when they were older. The conclusion I got from this was that we didn’t expect much from them. This shocked Mia when I later told her, and we both wonder what was said by our children's pedagogues and teachers,

As for sleep, I did not sleep on this weekend. When the others slept, I sat outside and waited to the sun rose.

I was somehow very aware that I was the only man in the kindergarten, and there was a lot of coverage in the press about men that abused children. I told everyone at a staff meeting that being abused is something that lasts a lifetime. I did not know where this came from as if someone asked me if I was abused, I would say no. I told them the best way to ensure no abuse at our institution was to have open doors. No matter where I was, people can come in at any time. I also said we had to accept if a child did not want a certain adult to change their diaper. This could be both a man or a woman. This policy was applauded.

There was a lesbian couple that had a child that went there. The girl always was at my side and it was clear I was her favourite adult. I never thought children benefited from parents with the same sex. This couple challenged my conservative beliefs. Their daughter was a happy child and had friends. There was one weird side about her, she always put her hands under my t-shirt or top. I must have told her many times not to do it as it was not right. This did not stop her. One day while I was sitting on a sofa, she started her game again, but her hands went up to where she started feeling my nipples. I was thinking about why she was doing this. To be honest, I was also thinking if this was sexual or not? Her two mothers suddenly came in and I blushed so much. Then one of the mothers said it was good she had a male role model in her life, and she was probably amazed that I did not have boobs like her mother.

Mia and I were now earning wages. So we decided it was time to get our own house. We were very naïve and not very wise, as we picked the first house that we visited. It was a typical parcel house from the 1970s. It had no front door, just a side door. Everything inside it was 70 styles, and many would not like it if they saw it. However, we could see our small family living there. One of the great things about the house was that it had a huge garden and a huge kitchen garden. It also had many different types of trees and bushes. The main thing is that we now owned a house and this was another step in our lives.

We moved to Sønderholm. Christopher was going to school there, and Sebastian went to kindergarten there.

I was only 27, but I felt like an old man. Christopher was officially starting at school. He was no longer a toddler and he was starting on an important milestone in his life. I had tears coming down my face when we walked him to class on the first day. It was embarrassing that I was so emotional, and I managed to hide it well. I was so proud of Christopher, yet our relationship was not as close as it was before. Looking back at it, I expected a lot of him. I expected he was intelligent, popular and an overall nice boy. I even wanted to decide how his hair looked, which often annoyed him. Christian did feel like he did not have me, as he once said that I was excellent with children, except my own. It really hurt me when he said this, but it had an element of truth.

I had another strange experience at work which totally freaked me out. I was sitting with a 5-year-old girl and just after reading her a story. Suddenly I went blank. It was not like I was thinking or even looking at something. Suddenly the girl said stop. My finger was just under the hem of her skirt. Although it was still high on her leg and nowhere close to her privates. I went to the office and had an anxiety attack. What was I doing and did I have any hidden attentions? The fear that I was a paedophile came back again, and it meant a very low self-esteem. I told no one about this, as I was afraid that they would have the same fear and questions and fear as I had.

Work has taken up a lot of my time, and I was trying to balance my work life and my job, as well as being in the scouts and International Friends. Compared to before, Mia and I were together less and we spoke less with each other. The magic was gone and we did not know it. Of course, we were in love with each other; we just never took the time to show it. It must be the same in every relationship. A relationship has to be natured and taken care of. A job or free time activities should not come before marriage. A person changes and I think that married couples sometimes never notices this change or who they are married to.

Time was something I no longer had. So I suggested to the committee of International friends that we close it. The asylum centre where we did the most of our work was long ago closed and besides a few speeches and evenings we had, the organisation was dead. We had lots of ideas and who knows if they would have made a difference. The thing is that no one in the committee had time or energy. Whatever the case was, I could see it was a waste of time, and obviously, the committee could, as International Friends closed its doors.

It was also at this stage that I changed jobs. I applied for a position at the kindergarten where Sebastian attended. This was in the same town we lived in. I applied because there was a job available but really did not mind if I got it or not. If I did get it, it would have been a wish to work in and be an important part of the town I lived in. I did get the job, which pleased me, also because I would no longer be seen as “green”

The Kindergarten worked with a special method called Reggio Emelia. This in short meant we taught children how to learn using the interests that they have. We documented a lot what they did and said and used this to see what they were interested in and used this so they can learn. Quite a lot of time was used documenting and talking about the documentation.

I was delighted that I was at the same institution as Sebastian. I never did see much of him as he was playing with his friends. But it was special that each day we walked to work and when I was done we walked home. He was in a different group than mine, so I did not have to worry about him in a professional way.

Once in a while, we gave speeches to inspire and teach other pedagogues and teachers in Reggio Emelia. A woman worked at our kindergarten, which was very smart and quite known for these speeches. Her name was Kirsten. When I started working at the kindergarten, I was asked if I would help her do an educational evening for other pedagogues. I agreed and promised I would do my best. So I changed the way she usually did it. I talked about a project I did with children and how hard it was to document it. I simply asked would my work have been better if I did not document so much, and would it not be better using that time with the children? Needless to say, everyone agreed. Being a total fanatic about a teaching method has limits.

The problem was Kirsten's speech was far too positive and boasting how great her projects were. I heard that her speech was somewhat self-promoting while mine was more provocative and honest. Kirsten was mad at me for the speech I gave and this was to be our relationship.

She was intelligent, and she was good with children and had great ideas. This made me somewhat jealous and a bit afraid of her, as anytime she spoke to me, she never said what I was doing was good; she always found the bad things about the work or came with advice in what she would do. I tried talking to her but to no avail. She knew all there was to know. I found myself trying to please her or make her happy. When I realized this I tried to avoid her. It ended where the leader called us to a meeting where we tried to sort out our differences… to no avail.

Internet was now part of our lives, and I spoke with people all over the world, usually, political conversations on MSN (was a chat service like Skype). One day, someone I hardly knew asked if the display picture I had on MSN was really me. I thought this was a strange question and admitted it was me. He told me he would recognise my eyes anywhere and sent me a picture. When I opened it, he asked if it was me. It was a picture of a boy sitting in a white dress holding a teddy bear. I told him he cannot see we have the same eyes and the discussion stopped there.

It didn’t stop for me. The boy in the white dress was me. My big question was how? Then something weird happened, I was standing beside my body looking at me just staring at the picture wondering how and when the picture was taken.

What I did not know is this picture would destroy me!


	13. Falling Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should a man that is worried that he is a paedophile work with children?

It didn’t stop for me. The boy in the white dress was me. My big question was how? Then something weird happened, I was standing beside my body looking at me just staring at the picture wondering how and when the picture was taken.

I had to go on a course in Sweden. Basically, to observe how they taught their pre-school children, I was not looking forward to going as it meant sleeping away from home and besides this, I would have to understand people speaking Swedish. The tour did not go well. Visiting the preschools was the only thing that did go well and I admit that I did learn some things.

However, I have learned that even people who have a job taking care of others can be evil. I shared a room with another man. I warned him that he should sleep before I fell asleep, as I snored a lot and it sounded like a train was going through the bedroom. He was nice about it and said that he was used to people snoring. I didn’t try to sleep. Whenever I was away from home, I always tried not to fall asleep. I would fall half ways asleep and always try to wake myself up. The next morning, I found my roommate up and getting dressed. He told me that he slept in the bathtub!

All that day, the others that were on the trip snickered and whispered every time they saw me. The man spoke with me at lunchtime and said he traded a room with someone else, so I can get their room. It was a single room, so I would not bother anyone. I took my suitcase and found the room. The woman handed me the key and said that she was unsure if she wanted to sleep in the same room as him, as he recorded me snoring and then played it to everyone. I was in disbelief! Were we adults or what? I did not say a word to the man, and he knew it and he knew why, because every time he looked at me, he had some guilt.

When I came back to Denmark, it did not become easier. We had a staff meeting shortly after I came back. Usually, these staff meetings were marathon meetings. They started at 5 pm where we used 30 minutes eating pizza followed by the meeting which ended about 6 hours later! Our boss decided it would be good if we would do an exercise in communication. So if someone in the staff group did things that annoyed us, we could be honest and admit it. So the first started and she had a problem with me that I always forgot to empty the dustbins. Then it was the second person had a problem the way I forgot to sweep under furniture. In fact, all the staff had problems with me. It was not problems with my work with the children, it was small things. Despite this, it hurt my ego that everyone had a problem with me.

I did not want to go to work the next day. I still went.

At home, I was also not as happy as I used to be. Since I got that picture of me wearing a white dress and holding a teddy bear, I had so many questions. When was it taken and why was it on the net? Were there other pictures of it?

I started searching on the net, and within no time I was searching child porn pictures. There were many things going through my head. I would sit and look at the picture wondering how much pain the child was in and did they try to say no. My emotions were strange when I was seeing these pictures. I would get an anxiety attack and started sweating. Sometimes I would be in tears and confused about what I was doing. Sometimes it was like I stood beside my body and looked at myself looking at the pictures. During all this, I was trying to find pictures of me, and this confused me as well. Why did I expect to find pictures of me? What was my brain hiding from me?

The fact that I looked at a child porno convinced me that I was a paedophile. Still, I was certain that I would never hurt a child.

I really cared about the group of children I had at my work. I wanted each of them to have the foundation for a great future. I wanted to defend them against things such as mobbing and being hurt. I told them never to keep a secret from their parents if someone did something bad to them. The only thing they should keep a secret was the Christmas gifts. This was something I told children a lot. Looking back at it, I understand. It was something I wished someone told me!

However, in my mind, I was thinking that I was a paedophile. This could be seen when children wanted to give me a hug. I pushed them away. Deep in my head, I knew I was looking at nude pictures of children and some child porn. I did not want to enjoy a hug from a child. I did not want others to see me enjoying given a hug. This burden was heavy on my shoulders. It made me feel like such a bad person.

There was one young girl called Anneke that gave me a hug every time I came to work. She always wanted me to sit on my lap so we can read a story or chat. I started pushing her away and ask her to sit beside me while we read a story or something. One day her mom said she wanted to speak with me. My boss suddenly joined the conversation. The mother said that her daughter was happy when I was at work as she felt secure when I was there. She also followed the debate in the media that some men that worked with children were paedophiles. She finished by saying that she trusted me and hoped that I would give her daughter some hugs!

The problem was not who trusted me; it was the turmoil in my head.

At home, I began to isolate myself in my office. It was not just finding pictures and feeling both anxiety and depression. I also was involved in a computer game. It was a geopolitical sim where a player controlled a country. It was very primitive and done on a forum. I only played a country for two weeks, and then was asked if I would control and moderate Europe. This means that every day, I got requests for actions and players budgets. It took me a few hours to go through them and generate the news.

Soon I was asked to be a head administrator. Many of the players liked this, as I was as far as I could be. The veteran players did not like it as they were previously treated different and better than newbies. Still, this game took a lot of my time and was killing my marriage. Slowly I stopped doing my chores in the house and got mad at Mia would be begging for my help.

Looking back at it, she was not only begging her husband for help but also her husband back!

In public, I was a success and people thought I was happy. I would always be known as the Irish guy that was once in a while hard to understand. I was still in the scouts but was not in the same group as Mia. It was hard to be in the same group as we had two children to be babysat. We began at the local group where we moved and quickly became prominent. Some must have noticed my leadership skills as I became the head leader, in charge of the local group. I did this job with all my heart and soul and my aim was that we would be a major part of the town. The number of scouts was slowly going up and I judged this if it was a success or not.

Things were going worse and worse between Mia and myself. We were quickly becoming more like good friends than a married couple. Our life was becoming a list of duties and who should do what. We tried going on weekends together, and these were a success in the fact we remembered that we loved each other. However, when daily life started again, we quickly became “best friends” again.

Christopher was also drifting away from me. I was very worried about him because he had very few friends. This meant that we had a lot of conflicts where I never listened to him. He tried telling me that he had a few good friends and was happy with this. It still worried me when we heard stories that he was tied to a flag post or was teased. Christopher would always try to come to my office but was often kicked out again. Things were not totally lost. Christopher and I would sometimes play a computer game, or go out and buy one. I would tell him not to tell his mom we spent money, and of course, he told her. We also went to eat a burger at times. Despite he was slowly drifting from me, I loved him so much and was so proud of him. I just never always showed it.

Mia must have known the illegal activities I had, as one day she called me into her office. She had one of my floppy discs that had some pictures of children on them. She wanted to know what I was up to. I told her I did not know. Then I was asked if I wanted to destroy my life, her life and children's life. I didn’t know what to answer her and said it most likely means I have paedophile tendencies. Mia was mad and said that I should stop doing it. It could end up destroying the family!

I knew why I did it. I wanted to understand myself better. However, why did these pictures make me think I will understand myself better? If only I remembered what my brain hid.

There was some happiness at this stage of my life. I finally got my driving license. I think I must have been the oldest person ever to get it. Despite having influenza, I passed the theory exam and it took two times for me to pass the driven part. I loved driving the car. I would turn on the music very loudly and just drive. It felt like I was at most peace here.

I was also happy that Sebastian went to the same kindergarten. Sebastian and I were close as a Dad and son. I think this was because I could see so much of him in me. He was really the only one allowed to come in and visit me when I hid in my office. He loved it when we played football games. When he was younger, people always thought he was a girl, because he had Shirley Temple curls. I understood how he felt. He lost these curls as he got older. He was not an easy child. It took us months to get him out of diapers.

I often had to open the kindergarten, as I lived so close to it. Mia would already be on her way to work as I woke up at 5:30 am. One morning I was running late. I told Sebastian to hurry and get his clothes on. As I was shaving I asked him was he dressed. He said yes and then was told to put his snowsuit on. When I came out, I was so proud of him that he got dressed. When we came to work, he told me he was big enough to take his snowsuit off. Maybe there was hope for him. I smiled at how good a Dad I was that my 4-year-old son was now more independent. However, when the next staff member came, she found him and asked me why he was still in pyjamas!

There was a girl called Sandra from the scouts, I knew her from the kindergarten. She was 7 years old when all this happened. She was what we called a problem child as she could be violent with other children as well as do anything to seek attention. This mostly was against males. She was in my group at scouts and did her utmost to get my attention. She would always be at my side and got mad if another child got my attention. As a scout leader, I was quite firm with her. I disliked her attitude and the way she treated others.

Still, she shocked me once in a while. She always tried to touch my stomach by putting her hand up my scout uniform shirt. I panicked every time she did it and had to remove her hand, telling her I did not want it and it was against a boundary I had. She would sulk and always try again later. Another time she sprang to my knees and gave me a kiss on the mouth while she said that she loved me. This shocked me and my first thought was how does she know what love was. I told her that I loved Mia and was sure that Sandra would get a boyfriend when she was old enough. Then she lifted her skirt and took my hand and pulled it down to her panties. I was in shock and just sat there as she sat there smiling. After so many thoughts were going through my head, I removed my hand and in a mad voice said I could go to jail for that.

It didn’t stop there. On a weekend, I slept alone in the scout leader room with Sebastian that was 5 at the time. When I woke up one morning at camp, I found Sandra standing there. She just looked at me while I was trying to wake up and figure where I was. I only wore underwear to bed and the sheet was kicked off me. She suddenly held my penis and just asked if she could play with it. I was trying to understand what was happening as she held it and wanted to play with it. I never heard of a 7-year old that asked that! I quickly took her hand away and told her to get out of the room.

When her mother came to pick Sandra up, I told her everything. This, of course, worried her mother and wanted to know why she would even do this. I told her that the scouts can help her, but she had to respect the adult's boundaries. If she continued trying to play with and seduce the adults, we would have to kick her out of the scouts.

After that weekend, I started to think about why Sandra did those things. I suspected her Dad had some part in it, but that is a huge allegation. I still believe a 7-year-old would not do those things by herself. She must have learned it somewhere. I knew the family since I took care of the children in kindergarten, and I was not the only one that did not suspect something was going on. However, I could not just go out and say what I suspected. I would need proof and I did not have that.

I also had to look inside me. Did she get signals from me that she could do the things she did? Did I wait too long until I told her to stop? Did I wait because I was in shock or did I like it? The question that haunted me for years was now very relevant. Was I a paedophile?

I cannot answer the questions above. Looking back at it I think I could have reacted sooner, which means a part of me liked it.

At home, I tried to escape reality even more by locking myself in my room and going on the computer. I had now a reputation as an admin in the geopolitical game. It was a world inside the computer where people thought I was good and appreciated what I did for them. I quit the game to start another game. This was a huge risk and everyone thought I would fail. The new game was a political sim based on the British parliament. It quickly became a success.

I noticed that Mia and I were drifting apart. So I told her about the British game and said it could be something we could do together. She did not want to help administrate it but agreed that she and Christopher could be a MP (Member of Parliament) in the game. Christopher was about 8, so he could boast that he was the youngest player in a political game, and I would guess he still has this record. Mia is no politician and does not speak often about politics. This could be seen in the game where she was a humanitarian. One of Mia’s and Christopher’s first moves was to give all homeless people sleeping bags. One just has to ask what it would be like if we had politicians like them. The world would be in a better place.

At work, I tried my best working with the other women. It was easier when Kirsten (The pedagogue I never got on with) got a job as a teacher in the school. I became a student counsellor. In other words, we had students that studied to be a pedagogue that had practical experience with us. My job was to help and advise them and at the end decide if they passed or not. The fact I got this job showed how far I came from being the pedagogue that annoyed everyone.

One student, I had tested my skills to the limit. She was very insecure and this could be seen in her work, where she was afraid to be seen with children. I told her we needed to have a meeting which would help her. She must have been afraid of this meeting, as the next day there was chaos in the kindergarten when I came to work. The student locked herself in the bathroom. I quickly took charge and asked a pedagogue to take the children someplace else, as they did not need to see this. Then somehow we opened the door and seen her lying on the ground. We moved her into the office and tried to wake her up. When she did, she told us she really wanted to be a pedagogue. Her mother was one and it was her life ambition. I took one of the most serious decisions in my life. I told her she could not work here. I advised that she took a break and worked with her self-confidence.

Most students were good. It was not only a learning experience for them, but also for me. There was one student who could not understand why there was so much noise when we ate lunch. So I suggested we get the video and tape it. When we looked at the recording, we were shocked. She sat on one table with a group of children and I sat on the other side of the room. Despite this, we had a conversation. Of course, we had to speak loud so we could be heard. The reason why children were so loud was that of us.

Children do what they see, not what we do!

Sandra met me in the shop one day. Scouts just have started and I made sure I was in another group that she was in. She was wearing an overall with no shirt under, so everyone could see her chest. The doubts I ever had about being a paedophile came back once again, as I realized I was the first thing I noticed about her. She asked me why I was not her scout leader. I told her that I was needed more in another group. She was quite smart, as she asked if I was avoiding her. I smiled and said the world does not go around her.

Sandra quit the scouts.

It was also time for Sebastian to start school. The kindergarten thought he should go to a special class. Their reason was that he was not mature enough, did not want to work in groups and still wanted to play. They said he had a huge imagination. They also gave an example that when he read a book, he sat on his head. This was also a hard time for me as on one side the pedagogues was the people I worked with and on the other hand, this was my child. Mia and I discussed it a lot. I told her nothing was said about his intelligence, as I thought he was intelligent. Christopher was very social and it would be hard for him if he started at a school without his friend and this could really cause problems. His play was very structured. He would empty a box and place one car beside another car. In the end, it would be one long line. It was very important where each car went. Mia agreed so for a few months we had a big discussion with the staff and had to hear things like it was no shame to have a child in a special class.

Sebastian started in a normal class and did very well at school!

We had another scout weekend. After the troubles I had with Sandra, I never slept in the camps anymore. Mia wondered why this was such a problem, but it was hard to tell her the full reason.  
We did go on one of our Romantic weekends to a hotel in Germany. It was just Mia and me. We used these weekends to rekindle the love we had for each other. We discussed it would be nice to have a third child. This caused me trauma as I was still afraid I was a paedophile. I knew that I never touched my boys in any way, but what would happen if we got a girl? This fear destroyed any sex life we had and at the end, I could not even perform! The German hotel was nice and it was great I was with Mia and it was only us.

My world fell apart when we came home. I opened the post-box and there was a letter from the police. They wanted me to come in the next day for questioning!


	14. Sandra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man is accused of molesting a girl. Can he live with this?

My world fell apart when we came home from the Romantic weekend. I opened the post-box and there was a letter from the police. They wanted me to come in two day’s time for questioning!

The letter did not say why to go to the police. Waiting to go to the police station was so slow and I kept on thinking about what I did. I suspected it was something to do with Sandra, but why would it take them so long to respond, as I told their mom everything! I saw Sandra at school when I collected my children and at the shop the week before, so why was I being arrested all of a sudden.

I have smoked a small bit since I was a teen and since I came to Denmark, it grew and grown until I became a chain smoker. Mia did not smoke and despised smoking. A month before I got that letter from the police, I tried to get off cigarettes. I tried using expensive plasters. I was proud of doing this as it meant I would live a few years more, and stop Mia's concerns and worries and of course her ever-increasing nagging.

Mia escorted me to the police, where I was told I was not being arrested, but questioned. The policeman said I was accused of molesting Sandra. I sat in shock as this was being said. Technically she touched me and I touched her, but it was her that done all the actions. As the policeman went on about how serious this was, I was considering if I did molest her. A part of me would have been happy doing it but I knew it was lust speaking and not common sense. Just admitting to this, I deserved to sit in the police station! My thoughts were disturbed when he read up her statement. It was actually her mother's statement as Sandra refused to talk with the police.

The statement described how Sandra was quiet and distant at home, and one night she told her mom that I molested her. I felt her privates and forced her to feel mine. Besides that, it was said that I forced her to masturbate me as well as suck me. I was in shock as even the bits that Sandra did were not this bad. The police asked me if I had any comments. I told him my first thought was that mom was putting words in her mouth, but some things did strike me. At no stage did she talk about sperm, which would confuse a 7-year-old if she saw it. I said it’s also strange she kept coming on weekends and wanted me as a leader. Finally, I said it is strange that I should have done this with Sebastian in the room. The policeman thought the statement was not enough and said there is no case as she would not speak with them.

I was let go.

On the way home, I bought cigarettes and kept asking Mia did I allow Sandra to go too far. Mia assured me that she knew I did nothing wrong. Her support meant a lot to me.

The next day, I was called into the boss’s office at work. She knew that I was questioned by the police as the police were also at the kindergarten and investigated how I was with children. I must admit, the police did everything they could to see if I molested children or not. My boss told me that Sandra was always a problem child and I had her full support. There would be rumours and it would be hard for me, but I would have her support.

I hid in the office for a few days and hardly was with any children. I was afraid of what their parents thought or even the staff if a child gave me a hug or sat on my lap. It took me some time to realize that I had the full support of parents and staff. It, of course, helped that Sandra’s family was not respected in the town. What would have happened if they were?

The big shock came when Kirsten visited. She was the woman that I did not get on with when I first came to work at the kindergarten. She came into the staff room where I was hiding. Then she gave me a hug. Nothing was said except that we were both in tears. She told me that she believed in me and this must teach me to take better care of myself and protect myself more. She told me at times I had low self-esteem and was too nice. I still thought she was annoying, despite she knew me so well. At least when she said I had low self-esteem.

I was accused and questioned by the police as being a paedophile. This was tearing me apart day by day. Every time we got mail, I had an anxiety attack. I no longer wanted to leave home because what would be waiting for me when I came home. I hid all the time in the office now. I did not want to speak with anyone and when Mia wanted to plan the next day, I would get mad at her.   
Sebastian was the only one allowed to come in. I even hid when we had guests and refused to visit Mia’s parents. It's not like I was happy. At times it was noisy as I could hear so many voices in my head and my thoughts were like spaghetti and I could not think straight. At times I was worried I would get dement or my brain was being pressured too much. I did things to stop me from thinking, like playing the geopolitical sims and listening to music.

I was still in charge of the local scout group. Sandra was no longer a scout and that was good. I buried myself in this work and my aim was to be known as one of the best in the country. The group I was in charge of had a good reputation so people looked at us to see how we were now doing things. I was proud of this work, but it meant I hardly had any contact with any adults. One of my friends at the time said that I was forgetting how to have an adult conversation. My work and free time were full of children except when I was not hiding in my office.

I still looked at pictures but never did find anymore with me. This did not stop me from looking and collecting more. For some reason, I wanted to understand what the children were going through. I wanted to understand paedophiles a lot more. If only I did not block out my own experiences…. And then again…. Maybe I was trying to understand what happened to me. The possibilities were many and it is easy to try and guess why I hunted for child porn pictures. I think it is a mix of understanding myself and exploring the paedophile tendencies I had.

I started going on chats and pretending I was an 11-year-old boy or girl. I was shocked at how many adults asked me about my sex life and if I wanted to meet them. Others would try to convince me that I should seduce my Dad or brother. This talk shocked me as these were adult people that had no respect for 11-year-olds and just considered them as sex objects. I was not that bad! I figured I was on a mission to take up these peoples time, so they would not actually talk to an actual 11-year-old. This seemed ok at the time, but it meant I spoke less to my own children. Despite this people took child porn pictures so others can see. If no one looked at them, there would be no demand. I did not understand that I supported the “industry”

Sandra’s little brother was still in kindergarten, so it was drama every time his mom came to collect him. I usually stood in the kitchen and let her storm in and get her son and then storm out again. Sometimes she shouted at the top of her voice that a paedophile worked at the kindergarten. I tried to be as professional as I could and not reply or show that I heard her.

One day, we were up at the school doing some PR for the scouts. We were putting Tattoos on the children's hands. It was going great until Sandra wanted a tattoo. I was in total shock. This was the girl who supposedly told her mom I molested her, and now she acted as if nothing happened and wanted me to give her a tattoo. I refused to give her one and this upset her. She asked me did I not like her anymore. I was very confused. I let one of the other adults put the tattoo on her and she still wanted me to do it! I told Sandra that her mom and the police would not like me doing it. I will never forget the look on her face; she looked as confused as I was.

Sandra and her family left town shortly after that

I wanted the church to be a place for families, and this was something Mia and I had in common. The priest we had was an old arrogant man, who seemed very much to dislike children. I had to coordinate activities with him on behalf of the scouts and this was no easy task. One event we really wanted was a family-style service in nature and he deeply disagreed with this and thought it should be in a Church. I was stubborn with him and quite honestly did not respect him that much. We managed to set up a service in nature; we just had to find another priest. We had to work a lot with the priest, and this was extremely hard, as there was a lack of respect on both sides.

Each Church has a small committee that is elected in every 4 years. Usually, there are no elections as it is hard enough to fill up the positions that there are. At a scout meeting, I came up with an idea that we should find candidates that would represent the young families. At first, the idea seemed crazy and not part of the scout's work. I talked with Mia and said it would be good for the town even if we got no one elected. It was always good to talk about how the local Church worked and our candidates wanted to ask if families are being forgotten. Mia and 3 others decided they would run. I did not want to run as I figured that I had enough work to do. In the end, Mia and one of her friends were elected in. Mia would in time prove to be a valuable asset.

Around this time, a janitor I knew from the pedagogue training college was arrested. He raped a 10-year-old and killed her after. I didn’t know him, but it affected me a lot. He reminded me of the perverts I spoke on chats. I started to wonder why he would force a 10-year-old to have sex and then after kill her. I knew I had paedophile tendencies, but I could never dream of hurting a child. Would I end up like the janitor?

People, of course, talked about the janitor and the girl. I told my boss a few times that many children are molested and there are many pedos that think with their dicks and does not care about the child. I told her no matter how much you accept it or try to forget it; it could end up screwing up someone's life. She asked me was I molested as a child, but I did not answer that.

This discussion happened with others. I do not remember these discussions but was told about them years later.

I continued looking for pictures and was an 11 year old on chat. My mind was becoming worse as I would go blank when I sat beside my computer. When I snapped back to myself, I would see that I just had a discussion with some paedophile. Sometimes I would stand beside my body and see an 11-year-old chatting on the computer. This was scary as I really believed I was a young boy chatting.

Looking back, I can ask myself how Mia and I never really discussed it. She found the pictures on the disk once and had a suspicion why I have done it. A few times she warned me to stop doing it as I would be caught and this would have fatal consequences. I would be in jail, lose my job and would be hated. The discussion always ended there. Why did I not tell her what I was doing? Why did I not tell her about the tricks my mind was playing on me? Did we grow so far apart that I thought she would leave me if I told her these things?

My parents came to visit us. This was good and bad. I had to listen to them telling me how much weight I gained as well as other things. The trip did go well as it could. We bought new wooden doors for the house and my Dad changed the cheap ones we had with the new fancy doors. Besides that, I do not remember much about the visit.

At work, there was a girl that was one of my favourites. She was the type of daughter that I would love to have. One day, we were sitting in the playground waiting for her mom to come and collect her. She was talking about boys and let me know I was also a boy. This made me smile as it was one of those funny things 5-year-olds could say. However, she must have wanted to prove I was a boy as her hand went down to my privates. I was quick and removed her hand and gave her a speech that she should not touch men in their private areas or men should not touch her. She started crying at how alarmed I was, so I had to tell her it was a mistake she made and I was not mad. I felt bad thinking was there another way that I could tell her it was wrong? However, I felt some peace. After a long time thinking I let Sandra go too far, I now knew that I did not want sexual contact with children. It was all in my head,

You would have thought that this was a good thing. I was slowly becoming worse and worse. Not only did my mind play tricks on me, where I would hear voices, have blackouts and stand beside myself… a problem I had as a teen came back. I had problems with my “plumbing” as I would wet the bed and in the daytime, I would leak. I purchased some pads that would help. I didn’t discuss it with Mia. This was the worst thing about the problems I was having. I had no one to talk with.

I told you about a girl called Anneke before. She was the girl that liked hugs and her mom said it was ok to hug her. Her life was turned upside down when she was 7. Her Dad died of cancer. I went to the funeral and it was one of the saddest things I experienced. I did not know her Dad so well, but I knew Anneke. After the funeral, we were standing outside the church while people were giving their condolences. Anneke came to me and gave me a huge hug. We sat on a bench and did not say much. She just cried and I was doing the best to hold back my tears. She told me that she no longer had a dad. What could I say to that? Then she asked me could she visit me at times. Her mom heard this and everyone started crying. I promised her that she could visit me at any time.

This funeral affected me. I had two children that I was hard with. I was not the best Dad they could have. This was especially for Christopher that was growing further and further apart from me. I tried being the Dad that he needed. Once I took him shopping and rewarded him with a huge wish he had, to get a cell phone. Mia thought he was too young and we argued on why we did not discuss the cell phone first. Mia did not understand. It was a shopping trip to Christopher where we could try and connect again!

Things were now very bad between Mia and me. We tried working together in the scouts again, but this was a catastrophe. We did not work together. I told her what to do and if she had suggestions, I did not want to listen. I treated her harshly and without respect. I wanted to do things my way! I could not see that I was becoming a dictator, and while I treated others with respect, I treated her like dirt.

At home, I was hiding in my office, so in reality, I did not see much of my family.

One day when I was supposed to open the kindergarten, I was taking a shower and when I was about to go out, the handle of the new fancy doors fell off. I had no clothes in the bathroom and was home alone. I sat on the toilet and figured could my life get any worse? I crawled out the small bathroom window and bruised my hip in a bad way. When I went to work I told everyone how I was locked in the toilet. My boss played along but told me later that she did not believe me.

Mia and the boys went on a family weekend. I did not want to go so Mia and I argued why I never saw her family anymore. I just stayed home and hid in my office all weekend.

When they came home, Mia tried to surprise me with a pizza. I took a few slices and went to my office. This upset Mia that told me she really believed we needed counselling. I got mad at this and told her we were happily married. However, I thought about it. We were not happily married. We were like two friends that lived together. We had not even a sex life. Not only was our marriage in trouble, but I was also a bad father that spent no time with my children. To add to all this I felt like I was going insane and my plumbing problems were becoming worse.

Mia was at work the next day when I woke up. I rang to her and apologised for the fight. I said that we needed to change things so we became close again. I suggested we quit the scouts and maybe we could do some activity together. Mia was busy at work and a bit annoyed that I rang to her. She promised we would speak about it that evening,

I was in a good mood at work. I planned that my group would do a circus. Then I was told there was a phone call. It was a man that told me to come home straight away. I thought it was a joke and laughed, but I soon realized that it was no joke.

When I went home, I found two policemen waiting for me!


	15. The Big Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man loses his job and respect from society and maybe his family

Mia was at work the next day when I woke up. I rang her and apologised for the fight. I said that we needed to change things so we became close again. I suggested we quit the scouts and maybe we could do some activity together. Mia was busy at work and a bit annoyed that I rang her. She promised we would speak about it that evening,

I was in a good mood at work. I planned that my group would do a circus. Then I was told there was a phone call. It was a man that told me to come home straight away. I thought it was a joke and laughed, but I soon realized that it was no joke.

When I went home, I found two policemen waiting for me!

One of the men said they had a search warrant that allowed them to take my computer. They said I was under arrest for child porn. I had an anxiety attack and showed them my computer. When they were done, they put me in a car. I was not handcuffed, but I felt like my life was over. They were talking about some party they were at as we drove to the police station. I was in the middle of an anxiety attack as I wondered what would happen to me.

When we came to the police station, I was searched and put into a cell. There was nothing in it except a bench and a window. I looked out the window and was mad at myself and felt like I was a monster. They could throw me in jail for life and throw away the key. I paced back and forth as I tried to calm down and accept the position I was in.

I was called into an office, where the police detective asked if I admitted to downloading child porn or not. I wondered why no lawyer was present. The police detective then said we can do this the hard way or the easy way. I admitted that I did download child porn. This did not make the police detective any happier. He asked should I not be ashamed of myself. I worked with children and had two sons. I didn’t answer.

I was released until the case would be brought to court. I had no wallet or no money, so I walked to the hospital where Mia was working. I told her I was arrested and the whole story. I wanted the car keys, but she said she could not be at work now. As we drove home, I broke into tears. Mia did not know what to say but asked was I telling the truth when I said I did not molest Sandra. I told her I may have waited too long to stop her. Mia said she would support me.

The first thing I did was to visit my workplace. We went into the boss’s office and I told her what happened and I resigned straight away. She gave me a hug and said that she did not think I was a paedophile as she has seen me day after day working with children. She thought it was like gambling. It was the thrill of doing something dangerous, and downloading child porn was definitely dangerous in my job. My boss advised me not to resign but take sick leave. I agreed but told her to put a notice up so parents would know. I was being selfish here, as I figured it would be the best way to tell everyone.

Christopher and Sebastian came home. Christopher was 12 and Sebastian was 9 at this stage. I told them to come in the backyard and we sat on the lawn. It was extremely hard telling them I was arrested for downloading child porn, and it was just as hard explaining what it was. I am sure they did not have a clue what it was. I told them that it will not only change my life but also their lives as they would be teased by their friends that their dad was a convict and paedophile. Christopher was silent and Sebastian read from a comic, showing he was confused.

I knew I had some blackouts and sometimes stood beside my body, so I asked them if I ever touched them in an inappropriate way. They both said no. I was delighted as this was the only good news I had that day. I was also happy as Mia must have had this thought. At least we now knew that our children were not molested by me.

I went into my room and hid under the covers in my bed. I figured that if I slept, this would be a bad dream and I could wake up smiling. It didn’t happen. I was woken up by my mother in law that stood at the door and told me what I did was wrong, but I would always be like a son for her and she would always love me as a son. I gave her a weak smile but did not say anything. I knew I had the talent to push people away from me when I wanted to be left alone. It's hard to say if she kept this promise. But I will write about that later.

While Mia was being consoled by her mother, I said I needed to go for a drive. I drove and bought a drink of coke and rat poison. In the middle of the parking lot, I drank the coke mixed with the rat poison. I have tried to commit suicide a few times each year since I was a teen, but this was the most serious attempt and I was certain it would work. It tasted vile, but I considered that punishment for what I did. When I came home, I went to bed again. I said a short prayer and told God I hope paedophiles can go to heaven.

I didn’t sleep that well. That was not what I expected. I expected to go into a deep sleep and never wake up. It ended up that I vomited it all up. By this time I was not myself. My mind was fogged and if I tried to think, I would think a hundred thoughts at the same time. The voices I often heard (one was a boy and one was a girl) were telling me to get life over with. So in the morning, I went to the bathroom and cut my wrist. I was digging the knife in trying to reach the vein. I actually felt no pain! I kept digging the knife and cutting as it was meat. I went out to Mia and asked how deep I have to cut. Her first reaction was to say you need to cut extremely deep to get a vein. Then she realized what I did.

Mia bandaged my hand and we went to a doctor. He gave me some stitches and said we had to go to the hospital.

After I spent a few days at the hospital, a nurse came and said I was being moved to the psychiatric ward that was closed. When I saw it, I started crying and begging to let me go home. The nurse said I had to be observed as I was in shock. I may have been in shock, but all I could think of was to punish myself and get this over with.

I was in the locked up part of the psychiatric ward. When no one was looking, I tried to open the doors and they were locked. I went out to a small garden they had but someone followed me all the time. I wondered did they see me as a monster or some pervert. I refused to eat. The only thing that I ate is when Mia came with McDonald's. When I was alone, I felt so guilty and felt like the worse person on earth. I hated myself. The nurses only came to offer me food and left when I said no. I had no on to speak with, except when Mia left.

I was afraid of losing Mia. This was my greatest fear. They could take away my job. They could throw me in prison and throw away the keys, but I did not want to lose Mia or my children. We have not been close for years and I manipulated her and treated her like shit. It was in the closed room, that I found out that I was a horrible husband and wondered did I even deserve Mia? I wrote a long letter with my thoughts and confusion about why I downloaded the pictures. I stressed that even though I was a bad husband, I loved her a lot.

When Mia read the letter, she started crying. She could see my declaration of love was sincere but did not see it much in action. We started cuddling and kissing on the bed as we did so many years earlier when we met each other. For a few minutes, we forgot the situation we were in and were kissing and hugging. I went to bed smiling when Mia left. I did something very wrong, but I would accept my guilt and pay for it. What was most important was to use this opportunity to rekindle the love that we had.

I still refused to eat, and my mood swung a lot. I did decide I would kill myself… other times I would be the best husband and Dad I could. A doctor called me into his office and said I was most likely in a crisis, and downloading child porn is not the worst thing that could happen. He told me that if I promised not to commit suicide, he would allow me in the open psychiatric department. I thought this was a strange question, but of course, I said yes while crossing two fingers. I was moved to the open department. This made Mia so mad, as she asked how I could be trusted in such a state of mind. It was like the doctor was washing his hands. I didn’t think, I wanted to be moved over to the open area.

I could not hide in a room there, so I had to be with others. I sat in a corner thinking they have problems like depression and voices that were not their fault. I caused my problems. I was scared at the psychiatric hospital. I felt it was the wrong place to be. I deserved prison or something like that.

A young man who was only 19 years old didn’t want to be there either. He was sitting nice and calm, and then suddenly stood up and threw a chair across the room and looked for other things to throw. He was screaming and yelling. Two men who were as strong as Rambo came to pacify him. He was taken away screaming and kicking. I never saw him after that, but it made a big impression on me. I was twice his age and knew happiness. I imagined that his life would be turmoil. He obviously had problems and at 19, his life has not really started.

I wondered if I was too hard on myself or did I feel sorry for myself? I knew what was done, and I knew it was illegal. I most likely had the Victorian morale, that it was illegal only if I was caught. Looking back, I think that I did feel sorry for myself AND I was being hard on myself. One thing I know is that I was afraid. It was at this time, that I started pushing people away from me.

Anneke, the girl that had a father that died of cancer, sent me a drawing and hoped I would feel better. Mia also told me that she wanted to visit me. Despite me asking the leader of my work that she should tell people, she did not. No one knew why I was in a psychiatric hospital. I told Mia that she should tell Anneke’s mom about why I was here. I was sure that she did not want her daughter to visit someone that was caught with child pornography.

She didn’t. Anneke never visited me.

My mother-in-law came unexpectedly shortly after I was moved to the open department. She told me she had something serious to say to me. I listened expecting her to give me a lecture on what I did wrong. She said that she thinks me collecting child porn has something to do with the abuse that I experienced as a child. I was in shock. What did she mean by saying that I was abused? I had a happy childhood.

She explained that sometimes when children are abused, they hide it in the back of their heads and forget it ever happened. She told me that I told her I was abused a decade ago. I looked at her and said I was not abused. Why would she say something like that?

After her, a couple we knew came from Church. They have not heard why I was here, so it was a bit awkward. They were so nice. I felt myself get more annoyed as they continued. When they asked should we pray, I had enough. I told them how I was arrested and why I was arrested. They were shocked as I told them I downloaded illegal pictures of children. They politely prayed and left. I never saw them again.

The day after, I was in the newspaper….the pedagogue and the scout leader that was a paedophile and downloaded child porn. There was a mom from the scouts that gave her views about me. You can guess what they were. There was also criticism of the kindergarten, that they did not inform parents. In a way, I felt relieved, as now everyone knew.

The kindergarten had a meeting. From what I hear it was a strange meeting. Most of the discussion was about why my boss just wrote that I was sick, and why did they have to read it in the newspaper first? There was, of course, some talk about me. The parents that did not have a child in my group were very critical and worried that I molested their children. The strange thing was that I had a few supporters that told how much I helped their children. This was, of course, told to me, as I was not there. It must have been a strange meeting!

A day after my mother-in-law told me I was abused, I was laying in my bed in the morning. Now I had so much time, so I just laid on my bed. I was half asleep where I saw images of Kevin, and him taking pictures of me. More imaged came where I was having sex with men. It was like a bad film that should never be allowed. I tried my best to stop the images, but I could not move. I was frozen on my bed.

It did not stop there.

When the images stopped, I was standing beside the bed looking down at me. My body was shaking and tears were rolling down my eyes.

No matter what I did that day, memories came and so did previous pain and shame. When Mia came, I burst into tears. She held me and said that we should go for a walk. Mia was in a strange mood when we went for a walk. There was a huge chimney at the hospital, where she joked and said that I was very bad at committing suicide. If I jumped from that chimney, I would surely die.

My life was turned upside down, but so were Mia’s and my children. Imagine two young boys that were around when we talked about child porn and suicide. Sebastian had a healthy point of view; he told me I was crazy. I said all the wrong things and told him that psychiatric sickness often runs in the family. It was said as a joke, but he would be afraid that it could be true for a few years. Christopher was 12 and he was very silent. He must have been so afraid and confused. While I had the opportunity for help, Mia and the boys got no help what so ever.

I was in the open part for a few weeks, where Mia came and we went for a walk. I told her we had to be smart and think about what was best for the future and our children. I asked her was it best we got a divorce, and save her and the children a lot of trouble. I suggested we could be married, but live separate. Once again we were in tears and Mia reminded me that we gave each other vows to be together in good times and bad times. This was a happy moment during this crisis. I may have lost a job and respect from society, but I was getting Mia back.

After the walk, we went in to have a talk with a female priest. There was something about her that I did not like, so I was quiet. I soon found out when she told Mia that she should consider a divorce. Mia was confused and thought divorce was against the teachings of the Bible. I forget what the priest answered, but in short in situations where the family was hurt, then divorce could be the only answer. I told the priest that we discussed divorce and was against it. Mia thanked the priest for something to think about.

Later the same day, Mia came with the boys. We sat on my bed where I told her the priest did not like me. Then I burst out crying asking Mia was there any light at the end of the tunnel? Mia stood up and said she was going home. I followed her all the way to the elevator asking her to stay for a bit. Mia simply said that she needed a break. She looked down while the elevator doors closed and our children were confused.

Mia did not come the next day.

The day after, I woke up early. It was nearly 2 weeks after I was arrested. I looked around to see where the staff was. They were where they usually were…. In the office. I put on my shoes and snuck out of the psychiatric hospital. I had this feeling I was free and the world could think what they wanted. I walked downtown to a newly built mall. At the back was a 2 story car park. I sat at the edge of the wall and looked down. I took my son's cell telephone that I had borrowed. I rang to Mia…

“Do you love me?” I asked  
“I told you I need a break!”  
“When will this break finish?”  
“I don’t know. Just concentrate on getting better. It’s very early”  
“I am sitting on the edge of a wall. I just want you to know that I love you. Tell the boys that I love them”  
“What are you up to? Do not jump!”  
“I just need to know you love me!”  
Mia hung up.

I looked down at the 10-meter drop. I said a prayer and fell to my death


	16. Counting your losses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man loses everything he cares about

I looked down at the 10-meter drop. I said a prayer and jumped to my death

They say your life flies beside your eyes before you die. I have to admit this did not happen to me. The fall happened quite fast. However, I felt so free. It was the first time since I got arrested that I felt in control. I could see windows passing and I could feel that I was dropping quite quickly. The funny thing is that I was at peace. Maybe this was because I was sure that I will die. The whole ordeal would be over.

However, I landed on my legs and collapsed to the ground, which was stones. I could not move anything and slowly the pain was becoming worse and worse. I was never one that could accept pain easy and would whine at the slightest pain. So it was beyond anything when I felt pains in my legs and back. I quickly found the cell phone and rang to Mia asking her the number to 112 (emergency services). She told me she did not want to speak with me and hung up. Then a man walked by me. I begged him for help but he just walked on! I could not believe that a well-dressed man just walked by me! I managed to ring the emergency services, but I could not tell them where I was. This meant I had to listen for sirens and tell them if they were becoming louder or not. This was not much fun with all the pain I was in. At the end they found me. They asked for my name. I could not remember it, but I could remember my personal ID number.

The next thing I knew was that I was in the hospital's operation room. The pain was insane and I just wanted it to stop. The doctors were waiting as I was being prepped so they just talked about private things. I noticed that one of the nurses cut my shoes with scissors. This made me a bit mad as they were new shoes. I didn’t have time to complain as I was put to sleep. They say the operation took 9 hours as I broke both legs, smashed my ankles and broke my back. My head was not damaged. That must be the reason I survived.

I woke up in my own room at the hospital. I didn’t stay awake long. The painkiller drugs I got made me sleep. A nurse was there. I found out I was on suicide watch. I found this funny as I could not move. It was like I was paralyzed. Even at that, I was so doped up that it was like I was sitting on a cloud. I had this morphine machine which I clicked a button every time pain was too much. When I got the morphine, it was amazing. I could see the ceiling change colours and swirl around. The doctors came and told me that the operation was difficult but they considered it a success. Despite being a success they did not know if I would walk again. I was not all that disappointed, as I expected to die. I just wanted the pain to go away. Luckily, the nurse left after a few days. They could see I needed help with everything as I could not move. I could not even go to the toilet. This was so embarrassing that a nurse had to help me.

Mia’s older brother Liam visited me. This was very strange as we never said a lot to each other and I always thought he was too serious. He worked at the hospital so he visited me. In fact, he visited me every day. Looking back at it, he must have had a lot of patience with me, as I felt sorry for myself, complained about Mia’s break and was always negative. Liam told me what I did was wrong, but deep down he thought I was a good person. He was a good listener and told me to use this experience to be a better person. Despite we never really got in before, he showed me that someone did care about me. I thanked him once for this, but he would never know how he has helped me during this crises and become a better person.

A priest also came to visit me. I lost what faith I had when Mia turned her back on me. The priest never did say anything that helped, but he was a good listener. He was very interested in hearing of the abuse when I was a child. Otherwise, I wanted to ask him did God think I was a monster and would he ever forgive me? Is this why I felt so alone? Was God on holiday? I also talked a lot about Mia and her break from me. When I look back at it, the priest had an impossible job. He had to help a broken man that was confused and had no future.

My boys visited me. It was not easy seeing their dad confined to a bed and unable to sit up. Mia came but said nothing. The children used to push me on the bed down to a smoking room where I would be allowed to smoke. Mia totally hated that I took them to a smoking room, and I explained that they thought it was funny when they pushed the bed. The children never showed anger with me and reminded me all the time they loved me. Sebastian said once that he missed me giving him hugs. So once, I let him crawl on the bed and crawl on me and give me a huge hug. I bit my lips as the pain was severe and the hug made Mia mad, but I felt that I gave Sebastian something he missed.

After two months, I was moved to a new hospital to get training. It was a small country hospital. I slept with another person, but soon after I came, they asked could I sleep in the depot room, because the man could not sleep with my snoring. In any case, I was slowly recovering and by now could sit in a wheelchair. So my day would be sitting in a wheelchair in the TV room. I did not eat a lot, which worried the nurses as I lost 30 kg since I fell. I had to drink a lot of protein drinks.

I became friends with some old women there. They did not know my crime, so it was like being a normal person. If I was not watching TV, I would be chatting with them. I was beginning to smile a lot more and thought it would be great if time stopped and I stayed here for the rest of my life. The old women did not like Mia. They thought she never smiled, was always mad and found fault with everything that I did. I tried defending Mia, saying she has gone through a lot and got no help what so ever.

One day, I was told my old boss from kindergarten wanted to visit me. I started shaking and had a huge anxiety attack. I needed to take some sedatives before I saw her. She told me how it was at the kindergarten and some parents remembered the good things I have done. She told me I once hinted that I was abused as a child. She also asked was it the truth when I said I was locked in the toilet and said I had to crawl out the window. She was a person that did not believe lots of things. I said I do not care who did not believe what happened to me as a child, as it was no excuse for the crime I did. I also said that she should trust her staff more, and not question what we said was the truth or not. When she left, she said she doubted we would ever meet again. Then I understood that she did not come as a friend, but as a duty of her work. Somehow this hurt a lot!

Another day. Mia and the children came. I told them I had a surprise. The doctors were unsure if I would walk again. So I smiled and slowly stood up. I took one small step. Of course, I was in a lot of pain, but I wanted to give them some good news and some hope. Mia got mad and said I was told not to stand as it could damage my ankles. The old women were right in a way. No matter what I did, Mia would get mad. I think her anger was a sign of deeper things and not what I did. She was mad at the position I put our family in. She was also mad that I kept on begging her to stop with her break and be my wife again.

Once, the children were pushing me around in the wheelchair. We found a hallway that was empty. So we had a wheelchair race. The children ran as they pushed me in the wheelchair. I was sure that I would fall, as the chair was shaking a lot. This was fun, despite the fact that it was something that made Mia mad. So she left early with the children.

The time came when Mia said we needed to have a serious talk. We sat in a waiting room that was empty. She told me that she decided that she wanted a divorce. I started crying and begging her, as she was the love of my life. Without thinking I told Christopher that we would be divorced, so he started crying. Christopher was always afraid of a divorce, so I was using this to try and change Mia’s view. She sighed and asked how could I use him like that? As Mia sat there, telling me the pros and cons of a divorce, I was looking at her. So this was it…. We would be divorced. She promised that we would remain friends.

I was once again moved back to the open psychiatric hospital. My life was now in tatters. I lost my job. My home and Mia. I wrote several letters to Mia asking her to reconsider. I never got an answer from her and her brother told me that she hated these letters. I felt like we belonged together and there must be hope. However, all this begging just pushed her further and further away

Mia no longer came. Her mom came with the children and it was less and less I was seeing them.

Mia did come, but that was without children. Once she wanted me to sign divorce papers. I did not want to sign these, but under the law, it made no difference if I wanted to sign or not. If Mia wanted a divorce, then we would be divorced at some stage. When we signed the papers, we said at least we could remain friends. This gave me some hope. While I hoped we would fall in love again, if this did not happen then friendship would be a good alternative.

The next time Mia came, she said that she wanted full custody of the children. Now she was going too far! I refused to sign these papers. This annoyed Mia that told me I only ever thought of myself, and not what was good for the family. She said I was a bad father, so I did not deserve custody. She listed my faults and the list was quite long. In the end, she reminded me of my crime and asked me what court would allow a paedophile custody?

This was a side of Mia I never saw. She had become a bitter woman… a bitch! She seemed to want to punish me as to give me some of the pain that she felt. It was hard hearing her call me selfish and a bad dad. It was also the first time that she called me a paedophile. This discussion made me think and the more I thought about it, the more I thought that Mia was right. I was a manipulating and selfish husband and a bad dad. Looking at our marriage, I could see I played the victim card and forgot it was my job to make Mia feel like a princess. Saying you love someone is not enough. You also have to prove it.

Mia meant business. I got a notice from the court that there would be a custodial hearing. I was still afraid that signing the papers would make the children think I didn’t care. I did not understand how the court would even consider custody when I was in a psychiatric hospital. I told Mia that I would sign the papers. After I signed them I said I am not as selfish as she thinks I am and I was not sure I wanted her as a friend for taking my children away from me. I did not mean this. Of course, I wanted Mia as a friend. I did not know how to tell her how much this hurt me. At any rate, even if I did, Mia was at a stage where she didn’t care how I felt. She was trying to get a new life.

There was an old woman at the hospital that was quite insane. She talked a lot and reminded me of a grown-up child. I had my own room. One night, she appeared at my door totally naked. She told me now that I was separated, I could have sex with her. Flashbacks from my childhood abuse came back. I shouted at her to get out. I was shaken and found some staff. I didn’t sleep that night, I just cried and cried.

Mia’s brother came one day with a letter from Mia. There was also a copy of a letter I got years ago from the Danish pedo organization. I recognized the letter. I wrote to them saying I thought I was a pedo, and how could I get some help. The letter back was crude. It was a man that thought it was great that I loved boys, and we should go out one day and find some boys. Mia could not see the letter I wrote, and it was easy for her to think I was writing letters to pedophiles and trying to organize meetings. I read her letter, in which she told me she knew I was a paedophile and considered me a monster and sick in the head. She told me that since she read this letter and the problems I had with Sandra and now pictures, she could not remain my friend. She did not want me in her life anymore.

I was invited to her family for Christmas. I thought maybe she had time to think. It was the strangest Christmas I ever had. I felt like an outsider and they were no longer my family. Mia said nothing to me, and it was obvious that she really did not want me there.

Back at the psychiatric hospital, I began speaking with this chubby woman 10 years younger than me. I was not attracted to her or even thought she was pretty. She helped me take my mind off of Mia, and this was what I needed the most. After a week or so, people considered her and me as a boyfriend as a girlfriend. Her name was Signe. I didn't really know her. I did not even know what sickness she had. I was not in love. She was just good company.

My mom rang me a few times a week. She told me once to remember I was still a dad. I still had time to change and become a good dad. It would be hard and I would have to fight for my children.

This was right! Mia and I had a meeting at the family Council to discuss how much I would see the children. Mia demanded that they would not sleep at my house, and any visit would be supervised visits. She reminded everyone I was charged with downloading Child porn. We started arguing, but it was clear to see that I did not have much of a defense and I should be happy even to see the boys. So it was agreed that I could see them for 2 hours a month and it was to be supervised.

I moved into my new flat. It was a nice flat with a small garden. Signe moved in with me. My life was at rock bottom. I lost my job. I lost my wife. I lost my home. I could only see children when someone else was there. I was considered a paedophile. I was considered a bad husband. I was considered a bad father.

Now what?


	17. Knockout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man life can get no worse and fights to see the light again.

I was living with Signe, and I did not love her. Everything she did was not good enough. I compared her to Mia. We would sleep on a small sofa and wake up and watch TV all day. If I asked her to help with shopping, she did not want to or would ask her mom to shop for us. If I asked her to help tidy the flat, she would say she was not in the mood. 

The fact is that she was very sick. She had epilepsy, which I could deal with. But she also heard voices in her head and was traumatized when she was 12 because she was raped. This meant that every evening at around 7 pm (When Simpsons were on), she would start crying or talk about the voices. She was very suicidal and depressed. This was not a good situation for me that was still dealing with my past and waiting for my verdict. I also had these children voices in my head and still was suicidal. Living with Signe did not help things. It is like we helped each other sink more and more into a hole. There were few good experiences with her, so why did I want her to live with me? She did not even help financially. She sometimes made me laugh, like when she asked how you boil an egg. 

This was the last time I spoke with Mia. She rang me and asked why was I living with Signe? I was rude and harsh and told Mia we were getting a divorce, so it was up to me. Mia said it can’t be love and the problem was that I could not live alone. I would not admit it then, but I showed it when I asked Mia is there any chance for us. She got mad at this and said there was no chance. She was sorry she got married to me, as she did not know I was a monster! I was in tears, as Mia was the one that knew me the best, and she could see no good in me. This was our last discussion. We met at family court meetings but the tone was hard. She thought I was a sick man, a paedophile and a monster. 

So I wanted to prove to myself that Signe could work. This was despite she invited me to her friends for dinner. Dinner went fine, but afterwards, we used drugs and got very drunk. The worse thing is I drove home that night. I do not know how I did it. I remember thinking of how mad Mia would have been, and this showed how much of a monster I was. I could have killed someone that night!

Signe was religious, where I was losing my faith due to the divorce. This meant she often went to her church… or so I thought. Signe told me that she was meeting someone else... in other words, she was cheating on me. I was surprised at my reaction. I forgave her and said we would not mention it again. The fact is we were living together for a few months and she was already cheating on me. Looking back, I knew I didn’t want sex with anyone and as I didn’t love her, I didn’t care. 

My solution was to get a puppy. This puppy would be someone that Signe and I could take care of. The problem is how could we do this? We couldn’t even take care of ourselves. She was too lazy to walk with the dog and I had pains every time I walked with him. The dog was not house trained. The only thing I can boast was that he was well fed!

I had enough problems. I ate 150 tablets and forgot that Christopher was visiting me. He visited me with Mia’s older brother (that still visited me every day). Christopher was sent to walk with the dog while I was asked what I did. I suppose that the leftover tablets splattered across the table told what I have done. I was hospitalized for a week and then moved back to the psychiatric ward. I felt safe at the hospital and psychiatric ward. I didn’t speak with the staff, as I did not trust them. One problem I had was that I started wetting the bed again. I was released back home shortly after I was admitted. 

Things went worse with Signe. She went to her Church service one night and came home saying she wanted a child. I quietly told her I wanted no other children, as things were not even well with the ones I had. I also mentioned that we could not even take care of a dog… in fact, we could not take care of ourselves. Signe went crazy and started hitting my injured legs with a coke bottle. Then she went to the kitchen and got a knife. I do not know how I did it, but I managed to get to the toilet and lock myself in. 

When she calmed down, I took all her clothes and threw them out the front door. 

I was now alone. 

The visits with my children were supervised. Usually, it was Mia’s mother or her older brother. I was told by Mia and Family court that I was a bad dad. Christopher and Sebastian was the only thing I had left. I realized how bad a dad I was when I would ask them to shop for me or when they heard me speak about suicide. Once Christopher even found a condom on the table. I realized I could be a saint to my children, and Mia would only find the negative things. However, I made a decision. I would not have my two boys embarrassed by their dad, or have no relationship with me. I would not have them think I was a monster. I would fight for the right to see them and I would work on myself becoming a better dad… hopefully, it would not be too late. 

I visited Signe at her parent's house. It was hard being alone. I proposed to her and said we could raise a family together. She was cold and bitter and said that she did not want to get married to me. I was in tears begging her to marry me. The answer was no. 

So I failed with Mia and now I failed with a woman I did not even love. The answer was 300 tablets and chocolate ice cream. Next day I was rushed to the hospital and asked if I wanted them to save my life. I was then driven to the capital, which is 5 hours away on a small stretcher in an ambulance. I needed to be in a special hospital. I was told when I was there, that I went into a coma. I do not remember that. I do remember a nurse giving me cigarettes because I had none. I also remember my mother ringing and asking did I want to be buried in Denmark or Ireland. Once again I was moved to the psychiatric ward where I had talks with a shrink. She diagnosed me with a personality disorder and dissociative amnesty. 

It is strange when I tried to commit suicide. I would be told how many people it hurts and I should stop doing it. I do know when I jumped that it was there that Mia decided she wanted a divorce. However, no one could see it was a cry for help. Getting a diagnosis that I did not understand did not help. I was in trauma because of my past and the crime I did. I had no self-esteem because everyone considered me a bad dad, a paedophile and a monster.

The one thing that did work was when I promised the children once again that I would not commit suicide. Christopher's response shocked me and broke my heart when he said I promised this so many times. It was like all the promises I made, they did not count as they could not believe my promises. I told them that this time had to be different. I had to back up my promise with action! 

When I was released from the psychiatric ward, Mia’s older brother still visited me. However, I got an email from him that he could not see him again. Mia did not like the fact that he was seeing me. I understood the email that she told him to choose between her and me. I could understand his choice and even if he did not have to choose, I usually just rambled on feeling sorry for myself while he was there. He did teach me something important. He taught me to concentrate on my boys and turn something bad to good. 

It was time to go to court. Actually, the lawyer told me there would be no trial. I just had to sign papers. When I came, I found out there was a trial. I knew the judge as his daughter was a girl I had in the scouts years before. He did not dismiss himself. The trial took about 20 minutes. I pleaded guilty and the lawyer said I was punished a lot already, especially by Mia. The verdict was a fine as well as 30-day probation plus I was not to work with children in the future. I was mad at the lawyer because he lied not telling me it was a trial. I also was thinking why did they not offer me any help. I would have accepted prison if it meant I would get some help. This was not the case. I was now judged and had to live with it. 

The big question is could I change my life around and find happiness in life. 

It did not start well. 

I met this man that offered me the job as a model. I lost a lot of weight during the last year but was still overweight. He said there was a market for me. I would be doing porno films as well as visiting some men that liked me. So I was back where I started. A porn star and a prostitute! I did 2 films with this man and visited a few men. My self-esteem was at the lowest. If people thought I was a monster, I could sell my body. At least someone wanted to see this. The problem was my children. We once had a discussion on crossdressers because they found out a friend of mine had a boyfriend that was a crossdresser. My children did not understand why someone would want to crossdress. They could not understand why someone would want to be gay. It was a difficult discussion as I was prostituting myself with men. What would the boys say if they knew this? If I was to be a good father, I had to be good when they visited me and when they did not visit me. I had to be someone they could be proud of. I quit that activity. It was actually a relief. I finally said no to someone profiting from my body. It showed I could change and take charge of my life. 

Mia was by now a bitter woman, and it seemed she only wanted revenge. She did this by limiting my contact with the children. She wanted it to be supervised until they were 18. At one stage, she was considering that I should not see them at all, but she changed her mind about that. It was hard being at the end of all this and it meant when we did meet about children that we fought and said a lot of things. In a way, I always understood her, as she was convinced I was a monster and she could see no good in me. I think many people asked when I did download child porn, why I even was allowed to see my children?

Mia showed a side of her that I never saw. She wrote a letter to some of my family and some friends I had telling them of my crime. It was something that she denied, but it is funny that they have never contacted me since. The fact that Mia has written these letters to tell people how much of a monster I was told to me by my mother. My mother never had anything bad to say about Mia, so why would she lie? Mia said she never did this, but at another time said she did not remember. So the image I had of Mia was someone that was bitter and hated me a lot. This was hard to deal with.

I was now trying my best to be a good dad. My main aim was to make the visits of the children as fun as possible. We did what they wanted. I did my best to make sure I listened to them and asked them how they were doing. I also wanted them to see I was getting better and they did not need to worry about me. It was about time that I stopped thinking about myself and think more about my children. It is true that I wasted many years hiding in my office and work and taking care of other children. I was worried that it was now too late. No matter what I did, Mia could not see any change. As time went by, I did not care what she thought as she could only see the negative. I care what the boys thought as well as what the supervisor thought. After we fought so much at the family court, they sent a professional to observe us. It was a bit strange that this strange woman sat on a sofa and wrote everything we did. After the children went, she would give me advice on how to be better with them. 

I needed something to do during the day. I went on courses and tried to get my body working again. I would have to find a new job, but it was like I could not work with the depression, anxiety attacks and voices meant that I hid in my flat. I did not want to meet people. I now believed that I was a monster and who would want to be my friend. I had even hallucinations at night. I would see Kevin (the man that abused me) come in or some other men come to me. Once I saw Zombies. I knew it was not real, but it looked so real. I must admit sometimes it was good. My children often came to visit me in these hallucinations. 

I also went back to the geopolitical sim that died on the net. It was said there was no way I would redeem it. However, it was a success and it meant that I had someone to talk with every day. Once again I was playing God in this fantasy world that I set up. 

About a year after Signe was kicked out and I begged her to marry me, she showed up at my door again. By now I was used to being alone and I was working hard on being a better person. She wanted to get back together as a pair. I did not want to screw back time. I reminded her how sad we were, that she hit me and chased me with a knife. I also reminded her that she cheated on me. I was not going to have that drama in my life again. I went as far as to admit to her that I compared her too much to Mia, and I did not really love her. I offered that we could be friends. She said quietly and agreed. It must have been hard for her to listen to. I never saw her since. 

Despite I was doing my best to be a better person, I was sometimes still my old self. When Mia’s older brother or her mom came, I would be negative about the divorce and supervised visits. I would try to make them see that supervised visits were unnecessary. I knew that some of what I said would be told to Mia, so I said things I knew Mia would hear. I am sure that Mia’s mother could see how I was manipulating her, as she got mad once and told me her job was to come with the children because her daughter asked her to. She did not want to be in the middle of our disagreements. Then it hit me how I used her and manipulated her. I felt so sorry about this, but it became a new project I had. I did not want to manipulate people. 

I have no contact with Mia’s parents or her family now. It is a bit strange that they write Christmas letters to my parents. I know Mia’s mother made a promise that she would always consider me as a son, but a lot of things have happened that changed this. The most important is she could see how I hurt her daughter. She could also see how I tried to manipulate her. I have spoken to her on a few occasions since. However, now I try to keep it positive and polite. I know she asks the children how I am and I am sure I am in her prayers, but she moved on with life. 

I was at last given permission to see the children unsupervised. I spent all day cleaning my flat and I bought the food that they love. It was especially food Christopher liked. I remember how much it cost, but it was something to celebrate. They did not come. Mia refused to bring them. When I rang her, she told me she would not allow them to be alone with me. I was devastated as she said this and I looked at the table of food ready for them. We were once again in family court and I agreed to supervised visits, so I could see my children. 

My parents came to visit me. My dad was shocked and worried when he saw me, as I was so pale. They spent much of their visit tidying my flat, which was not up to their standard. I also told them about the abuse I experienced as a child. My dad asked was it someone in the family and I said no. That was it! When I tried to discuss it later, my dad got mad and said he did not want to talk about it. My mom explained that people that were convicted like me usually said these things as an excuse. I was mad and explained it was not even said in court and I take full responsibility for what I did and have no excuses. It really hurt me that my parents did not believe me. I do not know what I expected…. Maybe a hug or something. But the fact that my own parents did not believe me cut like a knife. We have never discussed it since, except when my mother sometimes reminds me of the crime I did. 

It was shortly after this that I met Sven. We soon agreed that we would be boyfriends despite that he was 20 years older than me. It was the second time that I had a boyfriend after the divorce. I never considered myself gay but think of it that I had one leg on the other side of the fence. Sven and I had very little sex, but this was made up of the feelings we had for each other. He could see the good sides of me as well as the bad side but accepted them both. I did not compare him with Mia, and maybe that was because he was a man. Sven and I became very close and at times I felt like I was using him, as he would help me so much. There was very little that he needed help with. The fact is that he became more than a boyfriend, he was like a soulmate. It was, of course, secret and this was hard not being able to tell others how much he meant to me. 

A psychologist told me I should write about my experiences down. So I started writing stories that had some elements of some abuse I experienced. I found out two things. First, when I wrote an experience down, it was out of my system. I also found out that I was a good storyteller. I was criticized for my grammar and simple ways of writing things. Despite this, I started getting fans and this was hard to understand. Sometimes 5,000 people read a story and other times over 150,000 reads stories. When I get feedback, it is great to see if a story helped people or what they got out of it. Writing stories became a new hobby that gave me a new power to write and most important decide how the story ends. 

I had this man that visited me once a week as a helper. We would just talk and he would give me suggestions on how I should live and be happier. He came once when I was in a very bad way and told me that I should go to the psychiatric ward. We spoke with a psychiatrist and my helper told her I should be admitted to the psychiatric hospital until my brain calmed down. I was looking at the psychiatrist and she was skin and bones. It looked like she needed help more than me. It was not often that I admitted it, but I needed help. She told me I should wake up and take care of myself. If I could do that, I would not be there. Sitting there telling them I need help was a big deal for me. Then she told me she will increase my medicine and go home, I was afraid and somewhat shocked. I promised from that day never to go to the psychiatric hospital again. 

The person that supervised the visits with me asked for a family meeting. She said it was time that the children had unsupervised visits. Mia wanted a meeting at family court. The woman became sterner with Mia and told her that this was the final decision and the consequences of not allowing the children to visit me were not good. If she didn’t bring the children... the police would. I sat quietly as well as the children. Mia was in tears and looked like the world was falling on her. I understood why she had a problem and to be honest felt sorry for her. But I wanted my children in my life 

Despite the fact I wanted a new job, as it would give a purpose in life, I didn’t get one. I was sent on courses and a resource place to see what I could. In the end, I was told it was best if I go on disability. This was bad news, but I could always get a job if I felt better. The problem I had was depression, voices, hallucinations and constant anxiety. Officially it was called borderline personality disorder. Going on disability did improve my economy. This was helped by the fact that Christopher was finally 18, and I did not have to pay child money to Mia. 

It was about time to move to a place I could get help


	18. The Rainbow

It was also at this time that I moved. I was advised to move to a protected housing. In other words, I lived in a flat, but there was staff nearly all the time. 8 others with mental problems had flats in the same building. We had a common kitchen and sitting room. The reason for moving there was that I could get some help when I needed it. Christopher liked the idea as he said he would not have to worry about me.

We all have different problems, and I considered myself one of the “better off”.

Despite what I thought of myself, my contact person wanted a special nurse to visit me and help me. This was refused as it was said I was not bad enough. This caused a few jaws to drop but came as no surprise to me, as I was told earlier by a doctor that I did not need help. I could just get medicine and let that solve my problems. At times I wished the doctors could try one day in my shoes. It was easy to see I had problems. I had social phobia. I was afraid to come out of my flat. My self-esteem was at its lowest. I had a lot of anxiety and I worried a lot. Sometimes I could not sleep with the voices and hallucinations.

It was at this time that Mia got married again. This was something I dreaded. However, it did not affect me as I always dreaded. Besides the fact the husband had a similar name to me, I knew our time was over. At this stage, she refused to speak with me and it was very clear she wanted me out of her life! So she met someone who can give her the dream of a fairy-tale.

It was also at this time, I got a girlfriend. It was one of the women that lived here. I don’t think it was love. It was most likely to forget about Mia getting married. Sven did not like that I had a girlfriend, but I explained I felt as if he and I had more than a normal relationship. The relationship with this woman lasted a few weeks. Another man that lived here became interested in her, and before I knew it they were a pair. So she sent me a letter breaking up. We remain friends and the man and she is still together, so it was for the best.

I stopped with that geopolitical sim, as I started logging on to Second Life. It is a virtual world where people live a life outside real life. I was a child in Second Life. It was like having a second childhood. I had a mother and Dad and some sisters. The problem with second life is that I actually became that person as he was very real for me. He even had/has his own Facebook! I was happy when I was there. The negative thing was it was my life.

I did have a job where I lived. I offered to take care of the money that paid for the common expenses. This means I had to make a budget. When I started this job, we had to pay 1100 kr or a month! I asked myself where this money went. So people were surprised when I presented the new budget and suggested we only pay 450kr. I questioned nearly everything that was spent, and this caused some frustration and debate. I became to be known as a miser. People did not understand that it was a principle thing for me. I do not mind paying for common expenses, but when people use it privately then I had a problem. I still have problems with it, but I try now to compromise

On second life, I started a business where I made clothes. I found that I had a talent for designing children clothes and quickly became a success. Sebastian often wondered why I could have such a success in a virtual world, but not in real life. However, the business of Second life meant I never really felt lonely. The profits I made from it went to real-life charities, such as Save the Children and The fight against Cancer. So I figured at least some good was coming from it all.

It was also at this time that I got cancer in the testicles. I had one removed. I used my humour to deal with it, as I said I was now “Einstein”. I had to get chemo which meant I lost all my hair. I also lost a lot of weight. This meant for 3 months, I was constantly weak and sick. I was never worried that I would die. I met this woman in the hospital that knew she would die and she had two small children. This set things in perspective. The hardest was I had to go to a hospital that was 200 km from where I lived a few times a week.

This was the first time I saw my mother mad at Mia. Mia never visited or contacted me. I am sure if I was dying she would not have come. My mother thought this was too much as we were married for 14 years! I shrugged my shoulders. Mia must have found out as she did send me an email with one line that she hopes I get better.

After cancer, I stayed in my flat more and more. I was afraid to come out. I had all I needed in my second life. I did not have a past there, I had many friends and I did not feel like a monster.

I still had my boys, but they visited me separately. This was the best as they had two different personalities. Christopher was extremely intelligent and somewhat more serious while Sebastian was the opposite. They wished themselves to come separately, and I found out how good that could be. I could give each my attention. They both accept at times if I am not well enough to get visits. We usually cook and then take our time eating. It is the perfect opportunity for me to get an update on what is happening in my lives.

We went on a trip to Ireland for a few weeks. We rented a car and visited different places. Of course, I was in an accident when I tried to go past a parked car and hit the side of it. No one was hurt but we had a damaged car for the whole trip! It was great to see family and it was great spending so much time with my boys. I doubt we would ever get this chance to do this again. Despite I was often tired and my body could not do as much as they could. The trip with them was some of the happiest moments in my life!

My parents annoyed me as usual. As soon as I see my Dad, he didn’t greet me; he questioned the way I looked. I know I gained weight. I know I was tired after driving 4 hours from the airport. Indeed I probably looked like hell. So during the visit, I heard how bad I looked, and I should take more care of myself. I know they were most likely worried about me, but I did not want to be treated like a child. I did not want my parents deciding how I should look. Nothing was right. My hair was too long, I was overweight and my clothes were too casual.

Another problem was when I found out my youngest brother was in prison. He was there because he groomed a 14-year-old girl. He wanted to have sex with her. In his defence, he said that he was abused as a child. I quickly thought of the man that abused me, but then thought that I would have known. It later was shown that he molested his own daughter. This was not good. The whole family was in shame, especially my parents. They could not even go to their local church. He is still in prison, and I am the only one besides my parents that promised will keep in contact with him.

Back in Denmark, I was less on Second Life (the virtual world.) I stopped designing clothes but worked at a Catholic school. The Catholic school made me new online friends and in a way, it was bringing me back to God.

Christopher got married. I felt so old and yet was so proud of him. I have very little contact with his wife. I always had the fear that Mia told them that I was a monster. However, she does come with Christopher once a year or so. The wedding showed that life goes on and love does exist. After the wedding, I tried to congratulate Mia. Her new husband had to poke her to notice me. I could see that he loved her and treated her right. At last, she found true love.

As for me, it has been years since I had a new girlfriend or boyfriend. I must simply admit to myself that I am no good at relationships and besides that… I got to use to living alone.

One night I hallucinated that Mia visited me. She often does that. However this time she asked me could we not get together again. She would divorce the new man as she realized I was the true love of her life. I told her we can be friends, but we could not be romantically together. Too much has happened and we were now different people. When I stopped hallucinating, I was so happy. It was like we were finally divorced, and I had no need for Mia.

I feel that I am on the right path now.


	19. Epilogue

This story is based on a real-life story. It has happened. The sad fact is that millions of people can tell the same story or something similar. Child abuse happens in every village and so many children now are being hurt. 

In some ways, the man of this story was lucky. He survived the abuse he had as a child. He met someone that loved him and someone who would give him a chance at a happy life as an adult. There was so much love that this man received from his family. His wife loved him, his children loved him and he had a great job. Yet he destroyed this by being a bad dad and worse husband. 

This man had no empathy or boundaries. He was a monster and one can only wonder what would have happened if he was not caught. Statistics show he would most likely have abused a child. His children would have no relationship with him. His wife would have had a marriage where she was unhappy and had a life of misery. 

The man was arrested, and he lost everything. He lost his wife and nearly his children. He did realize how bad he was as a person and devoted his life to being a better person. This will take a lifetime to do. He will have the success that his children still love him. He would live in guilt that he was such a bad husband. He will always consider himself a monster. Still, he will fight for being a better person. 

The reaction of the reader will be interesting. We would cry and feel uncomfortable reading about what happened to the boy. When Kevin was grooming him, we all wanted to shout to the boy to say no. We felt pain every time that the boy was molested, drugged or being photographed. We were mad at the parents and other adults. Why did the boy not get any help?

When the man became a man and had doubts if he was a paedophile or not, we were hoping that he would get help. We were proud when he stopped children when they were curious and yet wondered why where the children curious. We started becoming mad at the man and even dislike him when we have seen the way that he treated his wife and children. We were afraid that the man would abuse someone!

For many that read this story, this man was a monster and deserves no sympathy or compassion. I doubt many that read this story would want him as a neighbour. 

Approximately 1 in 4 women in North America were molested in childhood. Approximately 1 in 7 males have been sexually molested before the age of 18. The statistics of how many children are being abused by families is unbelievable. The statistics of how many that have been trafficked and worse is disturbing. The experiences that children have to go through is heartbreaking. 

The story of this man is not as bad as some children must endure. Yet, he is a statistic. His life was destroyed. No one helped when he was being abused. There is a child somewhere like him now being abused. Maybe if we can see these statistics as faces, more people would act. 

For the abuser, it is all about control. They have very successful ways of grooming a child and in the end taking control. Many abusers would say it was about love and not control. How can this be true? A child does not have the same knowledge about true love and sex to be an equal participant. At least Kevin did not consider the abuse as love. He was a pimp and took illegal photos of the boy. How could the boy trust anyone after any of this?

The boy lived in two worlds. The normal boy when he was with his parents. The problem was that he did not get any love and attention here. It was just expectations and discipline. He did not trust his family or friends to ask them for help. This led him to agree to the dark world of prostitution, drugs and photos. The boy lived in a world of secrets and extremes. It is not surprising that he has no trust in anyone now and avoids human contact. It is not surprising that he has mental problems, although he will not accept how bad they are. 

Each child needs attention. They need love. They need to be accepted for who they are. They need to know that they are wanted. They need to know that they are protected. The boy in this story did not get any of this. He got the wrong attention. At one stage he accepted the role that Kevin gave him as a prostitute and porn model because he thought that was what he was good at. It was what pleased people. The boy had nothing he could compare Kevin's attention to. How many children that are abused can say the same?

The fact was that the boy's boundaries and morality were damaged when he was being abused. He accepted the abuse in a way and at times his body deceived him by liking it. He got the wrong type of attention with Kevin and this all combined moved his norms and values. He could not see how bad it was. This continued as an adult. On the surface, the man knew what was right and wrong, but deep down he was very confused. 

They say that the abused often becomes the abusers. This is most likely because they have no boundaries and they want to be in control. You would notice that this man in the story had doubts about if he was a paedophile from a very early age. This was the last thing he wanted in the world, as he must have been afraid that he would end up to be the type of person that had ruined his life. It is a shame that he never reached out for help. He tried telling his wife that refused to talk about it. He tried to tell people that he was abused, but they never helped after hearing that. 

The one bit of salvation was that he never did hurt a child. One could ask if he let the girl that touched him come too close. Did he delay in telling her to stop? This must have been a sign that he should have got professional help. 

The man forgot about his abuse for years. He simply hid it in some corner of his mind. This is quite common. Humans are very quick to forget things that are trauma and live as it never happened. Imagine what it was for the man when all these experiences he had as a child suddenly came back again. It would be like reliving them once again. 

We often hear that abusers use the fact that they were abused as an excuse as to why they hurt a child. The man knows what he did wrong. He accepts that he was to be punished. It took him a long time to open up and admit that he did not have the best of childhoods. When he was arrested, he had more than the charges against him to deal with. The memories came back which was very hard for him to deal with. On top of this, he had to deal with that he was such a bad dad and husband. 

I think the worse punishment that he got was the break up of his marriage. Mia was and is the love of his life, and now they do not even talk with each other. The salvation of the man was that his boys love him, and they still are in contact with each other. 

When observing this mans life, one must think that he made all the wrong decisions. One of them was the countless times that he tried to commit suicide. Did he want to die or was this a cry for help? If he did succeed, then he would miss out on so many joys like seeing his children grow and even meeting his grandchild!

The man is not a paedophile in the sense that he is an abuser. The arrest made him question many things and that included his morals and his bad sides. He used this to help him become a better person, and this meant a better father. He also has professional staff where he now lives that he can trust. They do not condone what he did or condone the way he was a dad or husband, but they do not dwell in the past. They work as best as they can to repair what they can by speaking with him and giving him people that he can trust. 

The man has paedophile anxieties and tendencies. However, these are in his mind. When he is with a child, he never has such thoughts. He wants the best for the child and the would never harm the child. The anxieties and thoughts are there when he considers children in general. It is the fear that he could be an abuser. It is also a question about trusting himself. Why does he have this fear? He had countless chances to abuse a child and never did. The staff where he lives also helps here by reminding him of his good sides and that he is not a monster. 

Still, this is something that he will have to live with for the rest of his life and in a way, he has come a long way. He is a better dad, although he would never get a dad of the year award. He is not as selfish and ego-centred as he used to be. He hardly ever has a temper now. He is even happy that Mia has found her true love. 

The bad thing is that he has isolated himself from society. He is in his flat all the time and hates coming out. He can even get anxiety attacks when he goes out. This is not his way of imprisoning himself. The tendencies to be alone could be seen as a teen when he hid in his bedroom. 

The anxiety he had of being a paedophile and afraid that he would hurt a child does not exist anymore. He accepts that he was abused as a child and will even be open and talk about it. This also means that he will not inflict this pain and terror on anyone else. The abuse is also in the past. The man has forgiven Kevin and his wish is to move on.

This also means that he wants to break any social inheritance that could occur. This is where this story has a good ending. His two boys are now men that any parent would be proud of. His older son is now a father and he deserves the father of the year award. The children can see their parents and learn from their parent's mistakes. Of course, they will make their own. The difference is that the children have grown up to be happy men, that have empathy, morality and compassion. They will make the world a better place!

So is this man in the story a monster or a victim. Can we consider him a survivor? Will he ever have a place in society where he can be liked and respected?

Who knows?

There are so many like him. 

The end


End file.
